Chapter 27CANDI

Chapter 27

CANDI

Mom's mouth goes slack in stunned surprise.

Angelo is practically vibrating with that emotion he claims only I bring to him. Joy.

His hand squeezes mine. "You said it. You can't take it back."

"I don't want to." If that makes me as delusional as he is, at least we're living in that dream together.

"Candi, a man without a soul can't be your soulmate. I didn't want to have to tell you this, but Mr. Bianchi told me––"

"I don't care what my biological father has to say," I cut my mom off quick. "His opinions are of no value to me."

"It's not an opinion. It's a fact. Angelo Caruso is the nephew of the former godfather."

I look to Angelo for verification.

He nods.

"Even though he was more than ten years younger than his cousin, because of who Angelo's maternal grandfather is, he was supposed to become the next don in his family." Mom says the words like she's imparting a terrible secret.

I'm not appalled. But I am curious. "Why are you Severu's head enforcer? Is that a role for him to groom you to take over when you are older?"

I don't understand how the mafia works, but I watched the Godfather franchise, just like everyone else.

"No. I will never be don and Severu will be the godfather until his death many decades from now."

"Oh. So why does it matter?" I ask my mom. "I'd think you'd be happier he's not that high up in the hierarchy."

Angelo shifts his leg. Only a tiny bit, but there's something about what I just said that agitates him. What?

Mom doesn't notice. "Because of why at the age of ten those plans were abandoned."

"Why?" I ask Angelo, not mom.

"Both my grandfather and my uncle decided my cousin Henrico would make a better don and potential godfather after all."

"Tell her why," mom practically dares him.

He looks at me with his unfathomable gray gaze. "They considered my inability to emotionally connect with others too big a detriment."

Mom's expression isn't one of victory, but pity.

For me.

I don't feel pitiful though.

Knowing Angelo isn't expected to lead the mafia someday is more of a relief than anything. I would make a terrible godfather-ess. Is that even a word?

"If you were a don, we couldn't be together, could we?" I ask.

The mafia hierarchy is a lot like royalty, I guess. The higher you go, the less say the person involved has about who they marry and build a life with. At least, that's how it is in the movies.

"My position wouldn't matter. Once I saw you that first time, you became my future."

Comments like that are sounding less stalker-y and more romantic to me. Mom's expression says she definitely considers them on the stalker end of the spectrum though.

"You're missing the point, Kathleen. Two of the biggest criminals in the world thought your soulmate was too without conscience to be put in a position of leadership." Mom's voice is laced with both pity and frustration.

Something about that doesn't ring true though. Why would criminals care if their leader-in-training suffered from a conscience?

"What happened?" I ask Angelo.

"To understand the dynamic, I have to give you some background on my birth family."

"I'm listening." I smile to let him know I'm doing it with an open mind.

Mom has enough walls up for both of us.

"My parents' marriage was arranged between two old and powerful Cosa Nostra families. Senior and Perla didn't love each other, but as a kid, that never bothered me."

"Because you didn't really get emotions to begin with," I guess.

"Right. I hadn't met you."

Mom makes a strangled sound, but I ignore her for the moment. This is too important for me to get sidetracked by her reaction.

"You didn't bond with either of your parents?" That would have been so lonely for him.

"No. The first person I connected with emotionally was my nonno and that was after my dad's death and my mom leaving me behind as a failed experiment in dynasty building."

"What does that mean?"

"Her father is the Sicilian godfather. Don Messino wanted an alliance with the American godfather, Don Caruso. He had two brothers. My dad and my uncle. Uncle Rico was the oldest, but he was already married to someone from the Lombardi Family."

"Who are they?"

"The Cosa Nostra mafia that runs Boston. His wife was related to the don's family and there was no way Uncle Rico would get away with killing or divorcing her."

This time, both mom and I give the same disturbed hum. He makes murder and divorce sound like pretty much the same thing and that's chilling.

"So, that left your dad."

"Senior agreed to marry Perla on the condition that their oldest son would become the next Luchesse don and eventual godfather. No one expected it to take nearly a dozen years and IVF for my mom to finally bear a living child."

"That poor woman." Mom shakes her head sadly. "IVF wasn't an option for Jakub and me. No money for it, but we tried for years to get pregnant."

"My mother's only interest in having a child was in the power it would give her as the mother of a future don and godfather. Until I went to live with my nonno and nonna, I was raised by nannies."

"Oh." Now Mom looks like she pities Angelo.

That's a step in the right direction, so I hope he doesn't say anything that might mitigate it. Like, he didn't really care because he never felt anything for her anyway.

What if he would have bonded with her emotionally if she'd been there to bond with? How different would Angelo's life have been?

"It was clear I was different from an early age and my cousin, Henrico, took every chance he could to point out how much to our uncle."

"The godfather?"

"Yes. My father was killed when I was ten. Without him alive to push his brother and my grandfather into sticking to the agreement, it was only a matter of time before they reneged."

"Because you were different?"

He shrugs. "You know that diagnosis I'll never get? Henrico convinced my uncle, Don Caruso that I'm a psychopath without loyalty. It didn't take much to convince my grandfather in Sicily of the same thing."

"But you were only ten years old!" They couldn't have diagnosed something like that at such a young age.

"There were no psychologists involved. Just me and my lack of connection to the adults around me." He looks at my mom for the first time since he started talking. "My parents fired my first nanny after I called her mamma. She is the only one I ever allowed myself to care about, because losing her hurt."

His tone reveals nothing of his emotions, but for him to admit that it had hurt is huge.

"Your parents were not good people," I mutter.

"I'm sorry you suffered that neglect," my mom says with sincerity. "But whether they made you like you are, or you were born this way, you are what you are."

"And what is that, mom?" I demand. "A man who is loyal. A man who is trusted by the current godfather so much he was made his top enforcer."

"Being trusted to kill people on demand is hardly a ringing endorsement for his character." Mom's words are harsh, but her tone lacks the conviction of earlier.

"He's more than just an assassin. Angelo has a lot more responsibilities than that." Okay, I might be exaggerating here a little because all I know is that Angelo told me he's more than a hired killer.

I'm not sure if that means he has more responsibilities or not. In fact, I don't honestly know what he meant by that at all.

But that doesn't stop me from standing up for him.

"Your daughter is right, Mrs. Czabok."

I love how Angelo pronounces mom's last name with a perfect Polish inflection. He cared enough to find out how and then practice it.

Doesn't that show he has depths other people don't see?

"I do have many responsibilities within the Cosa Nostra, especially now that my boss is the godfather."

"Like what? Are you trying to say you don't kill people for the mafia?" she asks, sounding almost hopeful.

"I do kill people," he disabuses her of the notion he doesn't immediately. "But protecting them is also part of my job. I am the ghost in the night our enemies fear, but I am also the man sent to dispatch justice on behalf of the innocent."

"What does that mean?" I ask because frankly that sounds more dangerous than the killing part.

"Do you think a mafia wife can go to the police when her husband is hurting her? What happens when an employee embezzles from the family businesses? Who enforces the laws that protect all members of la famiglia when not going to the police is the first rule everyone in the family learns?"

"What are you saying?" Mom asks point blank.

"An enforcer is a soldier. We enforce the laws. One of Severu's laws as a don was that none of the high-ranking officials in his organization could abuse their families."

"That should go without saying," mom says, unimpressed.

Angelo looks at her dispassionately. "What you might consider prosecution and punishment happen in 100% of discovered cases within the Genovese Family."

"Because of you?" This is so not what I expected Angelo's extra responsibilities to be.

"For those not directly under the don in the hierarchy, yes."

"But I thought…"

"In the last year, my team's remit has expanded to include assessment and intervention in domestic violence within the mafia."

"Oh. I don't know what that means."

"The don's enforcers have always been responsible for punishing those guilty of breaking our laws, but although protection of the family is a key precept of the mafia life, the accepted practice was that the don could not interfere in the domestic life of his made men."

"That's changed now?" I ask.

"Yes." Angelo doesn't sound like he cares either way, but knowing this is part of his job is making me seriously wonder how much of a morally gray superhero my mafia assassin is.

It never occurred to me that criminals have no access to the judicial system. Honestly, I never even thought about it. "What about divorce? I always heard that there's no divorce in the mafia."

"We won't be getting a divorce."

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" My mom sounds upset again.

"I will not keep your daughter against her will," Angelo vows, even though last night he did just that.

Though if I'm honest with myself, once I got here, I didn't stay because I was forced to and he knew it. The man has studied me way too closely not to.

"Neither will I ever give her a reason to want to leave me," Angelo adds. "Candi's happiness is my priority. I will never harm her. I will always protect her and those she holds dearest."

My heart pounds in my chest with an unfamiliar emotion. It's both gratitude and an overwhelming sense of security, even stronger than anything I have known because of him. This isn't a promise to protect me while I hold his interest.

This is a vow for the future that I absolutely believe.

For the rest of his life, Angelo will be dedicated to keeping me safe and happy. I'll do the same for him. Because relationships go both ways. And as wild as it might have seemed to me yesterday, today I acknowledge Angelo Caruso and I are in a relationship.

One I didn't know about for almost a year and that's still weird, but a relationship all the same.

Is that love? I don't know.

It's definitely obsession but it's an obsession that will keep me safe and has the potential to make us both genuinely happy. I don't see the downside.

"So, if she wants you to quit killing people will you?" mom asks.

My heart squeezes in my chest because I don't know if I want the answer to that question. Worse, unlike what my mom clearly believes, I'm not sure I would ever ask my assassin to stop being one.

Angelo directs his answer to me, a flicker of apology in his gray eyes. "There's no quitting your job in the mafia."

"Mafia men retire," my mom counters.

"Do they?" Angelo asks.

"Considering you'd know the answer to that better than we would," I say wryly. "My guess is no."

And I'm not nearly as bothered by that as I probably should be. The look mom is giving me says she knows it.

My stomach sours at the thought of disappointing her, but we've never lived in a perfect world. Why can't we live in a safe one? One where I'm happy with a man who fascinates me in every way.

"To answer your initial question in relation to other married couples within the Cosa Nostra. If the legal risk to la famiglia is too great, the divorce cannot happen, but the don can and has ordered a separation."

"What does that entail?" I'm not thinking about me, but my friend Bianca, who married a capo in the mafia in August.

"That's case by case."

"Give me an example," I press.

"When we were kids, one of the capo's wives petitioned the don for a divorce. Her husband had shared too much about the business with her for divorce, but the don ordered the capo to provide financial support for her and their children to live without him outside the city."

"And she was okay with that?"

Angelo shrugs. "If you are raised in the life, you know that once you become part of the mafia through marriage or getting made, the only way out is death."

"You said you'll protect the people I hold dearest."

"Yes."

"Will you protect Bianca from Salvatore De Luca?"

"If it becomes necessary, yes." There's no hesitation in Angelo's words and I like that he doesn't try to tell me it will never be necessary.

Bianca is bananas for the guy and he seems equally, intensely smitten, but that doesn't mean I don't want an exit strategy for her just in case.