Page 50 of The Vow

“My wedding,” Carmelo breathed out. “I’m getting married.”

His father choked on his pizza slice.

Mario gawped for a long moment. “To who?” he asked indignantly.

“Her name is Lena-”

Mario frowned. “Bit quick, isn’t it? I thought you were dating what’s-her-face, Bianca’s friend?”

Their father coughed and reached for his water glass.

Carmelo bit his lip. “No, I finished things with Maria, it ended… badly, anyway, I’m marrying Lena and I want you both to come…”

“You knock her up?” Mario asked with a sardonic grin on his face.

Their father started a whole new coughing fit.

“No.” Carmelo was beginning to lose his patience.

“How did you meet her, then?” Mario asked, leaning back and folding his arms, preparing for a good story.

It annoyed Carmelo that he was going to get it, as well.

Carmelo took a sip of the cheap Pinot Grigio and began to explain. “Well, as you know, I’m working closely with the Black Coyotes MC-”

“That bloody MC!” His father suddenly burst out with viciousness.

Carmelo carried on. “I can’t tell you half the stuff I’m working on but let’s just say it’s all sanctioned and above board-”

Mario scoffed. “Yeah right, those slippery bastards think they run the town-”

“They kind of do,” Carmelo said dryly.

“Who the fuck do they think they are, they are just fucking losers wearing leather in their jumped-up gang-”

“It’s a club, not a gang, and anyway-”

“Is Lena one of the club girls? I hear there are lots of loose women hanging around the Black Coyotes,” Mario sneered.

Papi had finally recovered from his coughing fit. “Carmelo, please say she isn’t one of the MC sluts, I really don’t like you spending time there, you know that-”

“Yes, I know,” Carmelo hissed. “She’s isn’t one of the club girls, and anyway the club got rid of sweetbutts, the girls are either members or work there-”

“Seem to know a lot about them,” Mario teased.

“I work with them, I told you, anyway,” Carmelo had to get to the important bit. “Lena, Milena Zakarian, she’s from an Armenian family-”

“Zakarian… Armenian…” His father narrowed his eyes and repeated the names slowly, like somehow they were familiar to him, from his long lost past.

“How old is she, what do she do for a living?” Mario probed.

Carmelo swallowed. “She’s twenty-one, she’s a college student-”

Mario whooped out loud. “Carmelo, baby brother, you dirty old bastard, you landed jailbait-”

“Zakarian… there was a family with the surname Zakarian, they were rich, powerful…” His father sounded far away, his eyes focusing on some memory he was recalling.

“Yeah listen, probably the same one. The Zakarian’s are the largest and most powerful Armenian Mafia family in the state. After the Demonios were pushed out, they’ve expanded their territory-”

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