Chapter One
Very few things were held sacred to those who lived
inside the suffocating world of Mafiosi. There were still certain things that
would never be touched in such a way that it might hurt the foundation upon
which la famiglia rested its most
core values. Those values were handled with the utmost care, treated with the
respect one might give their mother, and never did a made man abuse those
traditions.
Mac Maccari took comfort in knowing all of this, if
only because it guaranteed him and his wife, Melina, a few moments of peace.
Events like babies being born and lives being started
were not simply passing moments in time to la
famiglia. Rather, they were cornerstones that were always celebrated and
protected amongst the men that made up Cosa Nostra. Because they were the family. It was not just one man, but
every man and their wives and children. Their world and culture did not sit
well with people outside of their circles, so they only truly had one another
to fall back on when the time called for it.
It was important—no one, no matter how much they might
dislike another made man, would step in to ruin one of those events for someone
else.
So yeah, Mac was grateful that despite the uproar that
was currently rocking the very ground upon which Cosa Nostra had been built,
there were still some things that would always be left untouched.
One of those things happened to be his wife … and her
pregnancy.
Her very beautiful
pregnancy.
Mac smiled to himself, glancing to the side to find
his wife sitting in the passenger seat of his Challenger, her hands resting on
her thirty-six week swell. It wouldn’t be long now, and their baby boy would be
making his way into the world, ready to cause hell, probably.
After all, the baby was his son.
“What are you snickering about over there?” Melina
asked.
Her head turned in his direction, but she couldn’t see
him. She hadn’t been pleased when he’d shown her the black silk sash and asked
if she would let him take her for a surprise, but Melina played along. She
usually did, even if she did put up a fuss first.
“Thinking, doll,” Mac admitted.
Melina’s full lips curved into a soft grin, like she
just knew what was in his head. “You’re awfully proud of the fact you’re having
a boy, aren’t you?”
“Would have been just as pleased had the baby been a
girl.”
“Yes, but—”
“But,” Mac interjected, reaching over to place his
hand on the crown of his wife’s stomach, “I’ll have some backup, at least for a
little while.”
“A little while? What is that supposed to mean?”
Mac chuckled deeply. “What do you think it means?”
While his statement was joking in nature, the
suggestive undertone was still as clear as day. His wife certainly hadn’t
missed it if the way her cheeks pinked were any indication.
“God, Mac, you can at least wait until this one is out
of my damn body before you start talking about more kids.”
“That’s debatable,” he murmured.
Melina just sighed, shaking her head but still
smiling.
She could act coy all she wanted, but Mac knew the
truth. His wife was as stubborn as a mule, but so was he. The two of them were
like peas in a pod, and she threw just as much at him as he tossed at her.
It made their marriage interesting.
And he so loved his wife.
“I’m just saying. A little friend might be nice for
the baby,” Mac suggested.
Melina scoffed. “Stop it.”
“Well—”
“Like I said, at least wait until after this one is out of my body.”
“Fine,” Mac muttered, “since you want to be that way
about it.”
Melina smirked. He swore if that sash hadn’t been
covering her eyes from him, he would have seen she was rolling her damn eyes. She
was not so coy that he couldn’t see right through her act. Despite her loud and
repeated protests from the very start of their relationship that she absolutely
in no way would become the Susie Homemaker sort of wife, Melina was certainly
enjoying the perks of being at home more often with the only responsibilities
being to take care of her pregnant self and stay happy.
Of course, she still had The Dollhouse to run, and she
did.
Thankfully, Melina had knocked down her time from
several hours a day to two or three times a week. Mac knew there was no way on fucking
earth that he would be able to convince his wife to hand the business over to
him, so that she could focus on her pregnancy and the baby when he was finally
out into the world. Somehow, they were just going to have to figure it all out
and make it work.
Melina was nothing if not a fighter and a survivor.
Mac, too.
Surely they could figure out something as simple as
this.
“Timothy,” Melina suddenly said.
Mac knew exactly what his wife was saying because they
had been playing this game for months now. “No, it doesn’t have …”
“What?”
“Pizzazz.”
“Did you honestly just reject a baby name because it
doesn’t have pizzazz?” Melina snorted
indelicately. “We’re not in the Dirty Thirties, Mac.”
Melina couldn’t have sounded more patronizing if she
had tried.
Mac only laughed. “Well, it’s true. It’s not very noteworthy
of a name. It’s a fine name, doll, just not what I want.”
“Why don’t we just go with your name?”
“Because my name isn’t actually my name,” Mac explained, probably for the fifth time since they had
begun the process many months earlier of trying to pick a name for their baby
boy. “My name is James, not Mac.”
“We could start the tradition of using Mac instead of
James,” Melina suggested.
“Mac isn’t really Italian, doll.”
Melina conceded to his point. “And you’re a definite
no on James.”
Mac scowled, thankful his wife couldn’t see it. “Yeah,
that’s a big, fat fucking no.”
“He’s going to be born nameless.”
“So what if he is? Maybe he will, maybe he won’t.”
“We don’t have a name.”
“Stop panicking,” Mac said, reaching over to place his
hand on his wife’s thigh, and stroke her skin with his thumb. “We’ll find a
name.”
“You’re too picky.”
“Doll, I love you. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” Melina said.
“You’re making it hard right now.”
Melina wacked him hard in the arm. Even though she
couldn’t actually see him, she still had a pretty damn good aim. “Watch it,
Mac.”
“We’ll pick a name,” he assured.
She still didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue.
Mac figured they didn’t have a name for their baby already
because he wasn’t born yet. How could Mac possibly say yes to a name when he
hadn’t even gotten to lay eyes on his child in the flesh? Seeing the baby
moving around on a gray and black screen was not enough for him. He wanted to
know his baby first—see his little face and learn his features.
Then, and only then, Mac would pick a name.
A name that fit.
A name that was right.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Melina
asked.
“Nope.”
“I’m getting a little car sick.”
“Liar, you just want to peek.”
Melina pouted at having been caught in her lie, and
Mac squeezed her thigh in response. He still loved her pouts. It still made him
hotter than ever.
Really, her whole pregnancy had done that for him.
Something about his wife growing with their child, glowing and beautiful, just did it for him. That was the best way he
could explain it, really.
Mac had no shame.
And he’d take his wife whenever, wherever.
As long as Melina was willing.
“Almost there,” he assured.
Melina made a disgruntled noise under her breath.
“Better be worth it. I had to cancel my appointment at the spa today.”
“You’ll be there tomorrow instead.” Mac cupped his
wife’s cheek, keeping his eyes on the road at the same time. The last thing he
wanted to do was get them into an accident. “And Vic will be able to go with
you; she’ll keep you company and tell off the masseuse when they don’t listen
to what you want.”
Melina smiled at that, especially the mention of her
sister-in-law. “Vic is good for that.”
“Good for annoying the hell out of me.”
His statement had come out too low for his wife to
hear, but it wasn’t any less true. Victoria Maccari was an adult, sure, but she
was still Mac’s little sister. He tried to look out for her as much as he
could, but sometimes she made it hard. He was pretty fucking sure she did that shit
on purpose, too.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing,” Mac said. “And we’re here—no don’t take
that off yet, doll.”
Melina huffed, her hands lowering from the sash and
resting back on her swollen stomach. Mac parked the car in the paved driveway,
thankful someone had thought far enough ahead to leave a clear and open spot
for him to drive straight into. This had all been a little last minute. He’d
tried his hardest to make sure everything was done on time, and in doing so,
managed to get things done a little early for his wife.
Melina didn’t know.
It was the perfect chance for Mac to give her one of
his surprises.
“Sit tight,” he told her.
Melina’s mouth opened to speak, but Mac was already
getting out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Just as fast, he jogged
around the car, coming up to her side and waving to the people waiting on the
front steps.
Mac opened Melina’s door, and took her hands in his.
“I’m going to help you out of the car, doll.”
“If you would just let me take this off, then—”
“The answer is still no.”
Melina’s lips pressed together in a thin line, her
silent displeasure clear. While she didn’t mind indulging his games and
surprises, he wasn’t shocked that she didn’t have a lot of patience for it
right then. Being heavily pregnant and tired because she wasn’t sleeping well,
Mac really didn’t blame his wife.
But he wanted to make her smile.
He wanted to see her happy.
She would only be pissed for a few more seconds, he
knew, and then it would all be gone.
“Careful,” Mac said as Melina got out of the car,
still holding tightly to his hands. Once he had her standing right in the
middle of the driveway where he wanted her, where she would be able to get a
clear view of her finished surprise that she had waited months for, Mac let his
wife go. “Okay, doll, take it off.”
Melina didn’t need to be told again. She pulled the
sash from her face to let it hang loosely around her neck. It took her all of
ten seconds to blink at the large Victorian-style home staring back at her to
realize what she was seeing. Mac saw the realization dawn. People standing on
the front steps, ready to welcome her into their home for the first time since
building it had officially finished a couple of weeks before.
She had been here before, of course. They had both
made their way out to the plot of land they owned to check up on the build and
how it was going. But over the last couple of months, Melina hadn’t wanted to
make the drive because it was a good thirty minutes from their current
apartment. Thirty minutes out and thirty minutes back just to check on how
things were going was tiring, so he had used that to his advantage, telling her
some things had come up that put the build a little bit behind.
Not by much, he had promised, but a month at the most.
Melina never questioned him.
The last two weeks had been a bit of a rush to
decorate and style the inside, to make sure the rooms were painted with the
colors Melina had picked when the contractor first made the plans on the blueprints
for them to look over.
She had purchased furniture over the last several
months, keeping it locked away in storage until they were ready to fill their
home with it. Mac had gotten a few of the guys from his crew to help move the
furniture in and place it where it needed to go.
If Melina wanted any changes, they could do it easily
enough.
“Oh, my God,” Melina whispered. “It’s done?”
Mac nodded, coming up behind his wife to wrap an arm
around her waist. His hand rested on her stomach, and he felt the gentle prods
of his baby as he kissed his wife’s cheek. “It’s been done for a couple of
weeks.”
“It looks amazing.”
“Wait until you see the inside.”
Melina wiped at her eyes, and smiled sweetly. “Okay,
the blind folding and driving was worth it.”
He grinned, smug as fuck. “Thought you might say that.
Now …”
“Now what?”
Mac pointed at the people waiting on their front
steps. His mother, sister, a couple of Melina’s friends she had made, and some
of his guys. “Time to have a house warming party, doll. I think we’ve earned
it, don’t you?”
Melina’s laughter was a balm to his soul. “Yeah, I
think we did.”
As she walked forward, ready to greet and thank the
people waiting, Mac stayed a little bit behind, enjoying the scene. After all,
this wasn’t so much for him as it was for her. All too soon, their baby boy
would make his presence known to the world, and things like house warming
parties and time to spend eating good food and laughing with family and friends
would have to take a back seat for them both.
At least for a little while.
He wanted Melina to have some fun before that.
She deserved it.
All over again, Mac was reminded how grateful he was
that there were still things that were untouchable to la famiglia. While the family was important, and their crime family
was struggling between the official attention from the Feds and the police, his budding family was something else
entirely.
Sacred, he knew.
These moments were not to be sullied by problems of
made men.
No one would dare do that to him or his wife.
He would get back to the grind tomorrow, get his guys
back on the street, and hope to hell another street war didn’t break out with
another Capo’s crew. With no boss heading their family at the moment, petty
feuds had become all too common.
No one really trusted anyone.
But today?
Today would not be dirtied with any of that.
He was grateful.
***
Mac stepped into the warehouse, letting the creaky,
heavy door close behind him. The audible click of the door latching stopped the
murmuring conversations happening between the young and older gentlemen of his
crew. There was a misinterpretation that all the men in a crew were young guys
picked up off the street because they were easy to manipulate—that couldn’t be less
true.
If anything, young guys were harder to handle. The
older crew members had been in the game long enough to know better than to stir
the pot of shit or do something that might earn them a bullet, while the young
guys were more likely to push against whatever authority stood in their way of
getting what they wanted. Older guys usually liked where they were and the
position they had, so they didn’t have much interest in getting higher in the
family. Younger guys always wanted to be more—get more.
It was one of the benefits of being a younger Capo
like Mac was. He supposed he related to the younger guys in his crew which
meant they didn’t mind shutting up and listening to him. Not that the situation
was always the case—it wasn’t—but almost always was better than nothing.
Mac had a fuck lot less problems with the guys in his
crew than other Capos had with their crews.
He wasn’t about to complain.
“Skip,” came a collective greeting from twenty
different voices as Mac stepped out from the entrance.
He waved a hand in greeting and leaned against the
wall. “Any news for me?”
His gaze skipped over familiar faces, checking for any
sign of a lie as several “nopes” rang out from most of the men. He didn’t want
to have to look for lies at all, or think that maybe, possibly, one of his guys
might not be telling him the truth. Too much police and FBI attention left Mac
more paranoid than he usually would be.
No Capo wanted to wake up one day to find out his crew
had a rat.
A rat meant jail time, especially if it happened to be
close.
“Anyone get pulled in for another talk?” Mac asked.
“Just Enric,” said one of the older guys sitting off
in the corner with a cigarette hanging from his lips. “But he isn’t in the mood
to talk today—never is lately.”
The guy nodded in the direction of the office Mac used
to do work when he wanted privacy from the rest of the crew as they did their
work.
Mac would deal with Enric later. He was all too aware
it wasn’t Enric Pivetti’s fault the officials wouldn’t leave him alone. The
bastards had his father locked up, and he’d been the recipient of several
bullets to the back months ago when he’d been acting as a guard for Mac’s wife.
No one was looking at Enric like he was talking to police for his own gain because
everybody knew he didn’t have a choice.
Still, Enric was hiding himself away.
For more reasons than the obvious, Mac knew.
Right now, though, Mac had to deal with his crew.
Morale was low because business was shit.
Working was damn near impossible when every job was like sticking your hand in
a roaring fire pit. With so much official attention on them, even the smallest
job was dangerous and carried great risk.
But no work meant no money.
Money was the reason these men were here.
“All right, listen up,” Mac said, his tone rising to
get all of the men’s attention on him. He really hadn’t needed to bother, as
they all looked to him when he started speaking, anyway. They were good that
way—he figured it was a check on his good side, too. “I know everything has
been slower than death lately. We don’t have a lot of cash flow coming in. I’m
working to fix that.”
“How so, Skip?”
Mac smiled. “Different ways, but what I want to focus
on first is making sure all of you are safe when you go out to do a job. That
starts with the other crews, so I’m going to work on that and making some
peace. As for money, I have another idea other than the usual deliveries,
boosts, or heists that take a lot of attention and might be too dangerous for
you all right now.”
He could tell he had his guys’ attention.
Money was on the table, after all.
“I have money to be collected all over the city—some
rackets, a few loans that are owed, and bookies’ payments that come in pretty
regularly depending on the game the night before. Even some of the businesses
that still pay for their place, so to speak, come in on a weekly basis. It’s
not a lot—not what you usually make, but it’s something.”
Mac shrugged, adding, “And something is better than
nothing.”
A few murmurs—some confirmative, some grumbling—passed
between the guys. Mac let them have their moment, and when they all quieted, he
spoke again.
“You can take fifty percent of whatever you pick up
for me and deliver without issues. No
violence to get the payments, and definitely no bodies. These aren’t those sorts of payments, all right? So that
we don’t have guys acting like petty bitches, I’ll be the one to divvy up who
picks up what and when.” Mac chuckled, saying, “It’ll change from week to week
to make it as fair as possible, but this is the best I can do for now to make
sure you’re all looking at decent cash to get you through whatever fucking
spell this is and however long it might last.”
Because that,
Mac didn’t have an answer for.
He didn’t know how long any of this was going to last,
and he didn’t want his guys to suffer because of it. With no boss running the
family and taking payments from his Capos, Mac wouldn’t need to explain the
drop in cash. He could afford to lose some income for the benefit of his crew.
Other Capos wouldn’t do or say the same thing. Others
would probably be too concerned about keeping up their lifestyle and banking
more money as the dry spell went on.
Mac knew better.
When all of this was said and done, his crew would
still be there waiting to get back to work. His guys would still be loyal and
honorable to him. All because he took care of them when they needed him to.
That was what a good Capo did.
“But for today,” Mac continued, “just relax. Go chill.
And stay the fuck out of trouble, huh?”
“Got it, Skip,” came the confirmative, collective
reply.
Mac waited the guys out, leaning against the wall, as
one by one they passed him to leave. He could tell they were a bit lighter on
their shoulders with his promise of making sure they would be looked after, so
that gave him a sense of relief. Once the warehouse was empty but for a few
familiar faces, one being his longtime friend, Bobby, Mac headed for the
office.
The guys were handled.
One thing checked off his list.
Now, he could deal with Enric.
Mac quickly slipped into the office, letting the door
close behind him. He turned the blinds on the window, hiding the inside of the
office from the few men who had remained behind. Enric sat behind the desk, his
back turned to Mac, and tossed a small red ball against the wall. The rhythmic
smack of the ball as it bounced off the wall and hit Enric’s skin came in
perfectly timed intervals, and the guy never once turned to greet his Capo.
Not even after Mac said his name.
“Enric,” Mac said a second time, slightly louder.
Nothing.
The ball kept moving.
Enric stayed just like he was.
Mac didn’t let his frustration take over because he
knew Enric Pivetti had a great deal more to be frustrated over than he did in
the grand scheme of things.
“Heard you got pulled in by the cops,” Mac said.
Enric shrugged. “Nothing big—the usual “do you remember
anything” spiel.”
“Nothing new, then?”
“Nope.” Enric laughed. “I did go see Dad a couple of
days ago.”
Now, that was interesting
to Mac.
Nobody had heard anything from the boss or his
underboss since both men had been locked away. Some of the Capos in the family
surmised that Luca and Enzo were being refused phone calls because of their
statuses and the influence they could have on their men with a single order.
Mac didn’t know if any of that was true, but even getting some word or kind of order from the boss was better than the
silence they were getting now.
“And?” Mac asked.
“Neeya is moving out, I guess,” Enric said quietly.
“I’ve never been close with his wife—my choice, not hers. He wanted me to head
over there, see if she needed any help or if the girls needed something. He
said not to bother her too much. She’s allowed to do whatever the fuck she
wants to do.”
Mac took a few seconds to digest that information.
“Wait, you mean she’s moving out of their mansion?”
“Selling everything she can.”
Holy fucking shit.
The boss’s wife was leaving him?
That didn’t sound right.
Mac had seen Neeya and Luca Pivetti in more than
enough situations to know they were a power couple to strive to be. Nothing and no one was going to separate
them, and that was fucking admirable.
Except … had something done that?
Mac wasn’t sure.
“Thought maybe you and Melina could take me over,”
Enric said, spinning slowly to face Mac. “You know, the city bus only goes so
far and whatnot.”
Mac’s gaze darted down to the seat Enric was sitting
in—his wheelchair that had been a constant since he was released. Slight spinal
cord damage and two surgeries later, Enric had some feeling in his legs. He
also had little muscle and nerve control, but his four-times-a-week physical
therapy would get him walking again.
Eventually.
He needed to put in the work, though.
Mac figured that was half of Enric’s problem.
And he hadn’t found a reason to do the work, yet.
He would, someday.
“Yeah, we can get you over there to see your sisters,”
Mac assured.
Enric nodded. “Dad wanted one other thing, too.”
“What’s that?”
“He wants a meeting with you after you get this
handled.”
Now, Enric really had his attention.
