5. Chapter 5

Jade

Ithought I might not be able to fall asleep after such a wild day of ups and downs, but the shower—the best of my entire life—was practically a lullaby and warm milk. I sunk into my bed with newly clean skin, my hair wrapped in a soft towel, and my body swimming in Matteo's borrowed clothes.

It didn't take long to doze off, so I didn't even look through the TV options. I slept hard and well, only waking up when the sun shined too brightly through my windows. I wasn't even disoriented, sitting up with all of my memories from last night firmly in place. I couldn't forget about it if I tried, and I certainly would not.

There's a small clock that tells me it's nine in the morning, several hours later than I would typically be allowed to sleep in. School starts at eight, but I'm hardly going to point that out to anyone. I could never step foot in that place again, and I would be more than content.

My towel fell off of my head at some point during the night, so I carefully brush through my hair with my fingers, finding not a single knot to detangle. Thanks to Matteo's conditioner, my normally dry waves are hydrated and silky smooth.

A knock gently taps against my door, drawing my eye.

"Yes?" I call out, unsure how to answer.

"It's me," Matteo's familiar voice responds. "You good if I come in?"

Sitting with my legs crossed in bed, I rub my eyes. "Yeah!"

Not waiting a second longer, he opens the door and steps inside. "Up so early?" he asks. He hasn't got on a shirt, and his hair is a bit mused so I assume he's just woken up as well.

"Checking up on me so early?" I counter, smiling.

"Of course," he says easily. "Did you sleep okay?"

Fantastically. "Yeah, it was good."

He nods in approval. "Good. I can take you down to breakfast in a bit if you want. Everyone except Emilio came back, he had to fly home last night."

I try not to frown, attempting to place Emilio's face with his name. I think he's one of the twins, though I'm really not sure.

Matteo cocks his head at me. "Whatcha thinking, sis?" I have to hide a smile, hearing him call me that. He keeps using it so freely and confidently—happily.

"There's so many of you," I admit shyly. "I feel like I need a diagram to study, or I'll never remember who's who."

His smile morphs into a full-blown smirk. "I can help you out with that," Matteo declares, rubbing his hands together. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

"I—"

He doesn't wait for me to get a word in, leaving my new room in a hurry. Maybe two minutes pass before he's returned, thick black paper and gold Sharpies in hand.

Without invitation, he jumps onto my bed on his stomach, making himself comfortable before beginning to write. Moretti Family Tree.

"You don't have to," I say quietly, spinning on my butt to face him while he works. "I mean, if you're busy, I'd get it."

He snorts. "Nah, nothing better to do right now. Gotta educate my little sister. Now, pay attention, yeah?" His lighthearted tone makes my chest deflate. He wants to be here.

I nod in reply. "Okay."

Matteo grins. "Good! So first," he starts, drawing the first gold line. "We have Dad—well, Dante, our Capo. Your Capo now too. He's in charge of the entire Outfit—our organization."

"The mafia," I conclude.

With a chuckle he clicks his tongue at me. "Yes, the Outfit is an Italian Mafia, the biggest on the East Coast to be exact, and one of the oldest. There's a few Italian families who have similar organizations, and we know them all. We keep to our territories, mostly. But that's another study session to be had."

Returning to his paper, he continues, "Dad married my mom about thirty-two years ago when they were eighteen. It was arranged, but he didn't mind. Didn't love her, but didn't hate her either. Her name was Alina."

Was. Because there's no stepmother for me to encounter any time soon. I'm living in her old room, after all.

"She was a real mafia princess type. I'd say, you know what I mean, but you don't. I'm sure you'll meet plenty of them soon, though. There are two distinct kinds of mafia princesses here: the society darlings and the adoring mothers. Alina was the latter. Popped out a lot of us, of course, but preferred the way that made her look more than actually being a parent."

Ouch. I want to tell him I'm sorry because that must not have been nice, but he doesn't miss a beat, leaving no room for me to say the words.

"They had Apollo first," Matteo goes on, writing out his oldest brother's name below the furthest left line. "He's the one who looks like Dad's mini-me—which, I guess means he looks like you too, huh?"

He snickers like it's humorous before getting back to his description. "Apollo's thirty-one now and a grumpy prick. Don't expect to spend a lot of bonding time with him, and don't take it personally. He's an ass, but that's just how he is. He'll be Capo when Dad retires. Well, he will if he bucks up and marries someone soon."

With a snort, he rolls his eyes. "Can't be a Capo without a wife, of course. The Outfit isn't entirely backward, but we are quite traditional in a lot of ways."

Tradition is important. Got it.

"Next comes Leon, the golden child, golden blonde hair and all." The only blonde one from last night. That should help me tell him apart.

"He's an Underboss, which means he takes care of the section of our territory that's furthest from the rest of us. He rules under Dad but isn't next in line for Capo—because he's a second-born—although he still has a ton of responsibilities. He handles it well, of course. He's twenty-nine and has been in his role for eight years."

I'm starting to worry I won't remember ages or roles when I realize he's writing them smaller beneath each name. Smart.

He adds a line next to Leon's name. "Leon, being the good boy that he is, married Cleo four years ago. It was an alliance marriage. He still doesn't love her, last time I checked, but she's nice enough. Good mom to their kid."

They have a kid? I gape. I'm an aunt?

Another line connects, drawing down from the one between their two names. "Bastian, the little bugger, is three. The first grandchild, but still only an Underboss heir. Unless Apollo doesn't have a son, then Capo defects to him. He likes monster trucks and dragons, so he's pretty cool."

My heart does a funny flip. A nephew.

"Why do you say Leon is the golden child?"

He releases a long sigh. "Because he is. Leon does everything right. He's Dad's favorite, though they'll both deny it. Leon's perfect, you'll see soon enough."

I don't think anyone is perfect all the time, but I don't mention that.

"That brings us to Cassio, the third oldest son. He was the one who stared at you like you were a full-blown alien. He's a bit of a mess, but who can blame him? I'd probably be worse if I were him."

My eyebrows draw in with confusion, and Matteo keeps going.

"Cassio is twenty-eight and he's our Consigliere, which is sort of like a high-up leader and advisor. He's ridiculously smart and calculating, so it suits him well. He's also a widow."

"Oh," I breathe out mournfully.

"Yeah, it's pretty fucked." He draws a line for the deceased wife. "Isobel was only twenty-five and a childhood friend. It wasn't an arranged marriage, they loved each other like crazy. They were trying for a kid for five years before she got pregnant."

Oh no.

He nods at the look on my face. "Angél was his name. He died three minutes after Isobel—during the birth."

I— Holy crap, I think I might cry.

That's awful! Poor Cassio.

"That was last year, and Cassio hasn't been the same since. He's not cold like Apollo, but he's… empty, I guess. I wouldn't expect a warm and loving reception from him, but he'll probably still talk to you, with him living here and all. Just don't bring Isobel or Angél up."

"I won't," I promise.

"Cool," he chirps, shifting the mood. "On a lighter note. Next, we have the first of the Moretti twins, Elio. He handles asset management. It's more on the business side of the organization, of course, but still important—even if it's boring as fuck."

I laugh despite myself and despite my lingering sadness for Cassio.

"Elio is twenty-five and single. He'll be one of the more outwardly normal of the lot of us."

"His twin is Emilio?" I ask, hoping I've remembered that right.

"Correct," he adamantly cheers. "Emilio and Elio are identical twins, though they don't act like it as much anymore. Emilio is quite busy and tends to make his wife and kids a priority now, above Elio."

Is that bad?

"Emilio is our ambassador. He represents the family in the normal world, showing them how regular we are, attending charity galas and all that bullshit. He keeps his hands clean unless absolutely necessary."

"To make the family look normal?"

"Yes," he confirms, meeting my eyes. "There are a lot of people who know what we are and what we do. Never underestimate how many people can be bribed and bought. However, it's always safer to maintain innocence and a clean image. Emilio does that with his wife, Melani.

"Their marriage was arranged, but they love the shit out of each other now. They've got two kids, Valerio, who is two, and Mila, who's only two months. That's why he went home, mostly. He lives in the city a few hours away for business purposes, and having his two-month-old be away from him drives him nuts."

I can imagine.

"Oh, and Valerio will inherit Emilio's role as our ambassador if he wants it."

"If?" I didn't know want was an option in this type of business.

He nods, finishing up their names. "Yes, because it's a business role. Emilio's son and future sons have more of a choice—Elio's future sons, too, if he has any. They can pass it to another Moretti son or a trusted Outfit member if they'd prefer a different, more… involved position. We can never have too many snipers or enforcers, can we?"

I blink. "I guess not?"

He chuckles. "You'll learn more about the ins and outs of the business soon enough; no need to stress about it. Anyway, next up, we have Armani, who just turned twenty-three. You missed a wild party that night."

"I've missed a lot," I mutter sadly.

He frowns. "No dwelling, little sis. There's still plenty to see firsthand now that you're here. I have a ton of birthday parties to come."

A laugh bubbles from my lips, and he smiles before returning to his lesson.

"Armani isn't married—but he's never lonely if you catch my drift—and he's a weapons instructor. He's the one with the man-bun and tattoos all over. He's pretty cool, but I have a feeling he's going to be suuuuper protective of you. So, that won't be fun."

Protective sounds nice, I think to myself.

"On to the second set of twins, we have Nico and Remo. Nico is four minutes older, but Remo is the bigger one. They're twenty-one and still in Empire, like me. Nico is going to be an enforcer, though; we're already sure of that. I think Remo will do something with Tech, but he isn't so sure about it yet."

Empire?I want to ask, but Matteo is already moving on.

"Then there's the best for last, of course. We've got me. Nineteen years old, single, and the baddest Moretti of them all." He playfully winks, continuing to spell out his name.

"Oh! And Uncle Cesar is important, I suppose. I'll just throw him down here. Uncle is our dad's brother. He's forty-one and our current enforcer. Bit of a terrifying guy to everyone but us. He'll spoil you as soon as he finds out you exist. Dad probably texted him already since they're besties."

"Besties?" I giggle.

"Yep," he agrees, popping the P. "Brothers bonded for life and all that, but Uncle doesn't have any kids, so he's just got us. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he's here for breakfast."

He goes quiet for a minute, and I notice he's adding me to the tree, noting Kim in small letters as my mom. Smaller letters than the rest of us, like he doesn't even want to put her there. I smile at that. I'm not stupid. I know Officer Brian likely spilled some of the beans of my home life, and Kim would be hard to make look favorable.

"What did you mean when you said you were "in Empire" still?"

His eyes light up as he finishes up the family tree, making a small key at the bottom. Star for me, Diamond for uncle, and Skull for the deceased. He doodles the little characters where they apply and then passes the completed work over.

"Empire Academy is where organized crime families send their kids to become gods."

I swallow nervously. "Oh?"

"Oh yeah." He nods excitedly. "It's not required by some mafia council of councils or anything, but most families send at least their heirs there, from eighteen to twenty-two. They train you up real good."

"So it's a boys mafia college?"

He snorts. "It's not boys only. Girls go, too. Most of the time, they do different stuff, but it depends on the family. Some organizations have women in the ranks, albeit not many, but some do. A lot of the girls who go to Empire are there to learn how to defend themselves and build connections."

"Oh, that's um, interesting?" I don't know what else to say, still a bit baffled by what he's telling me. The concept he's describing is entirely foreign.

Earlier, he called my two nephews heirs, but my little niece didn't get that title. I assume that means we don't have women in our ranks.

"The Moretti women, what do they do?"

He smiles, and it's so genuine. "Moretti women have the most important role of all. They're the reason we exist and the thing that keeps us going."

"So The Outfit doesn't have women in their ranks?"

"No," he answers with no hint of how he feels about that. "To be honest, one has never wanted to be. Why? Do you want to be?"

Absolutely not!"No, thank you."

He chuckles. "Good. I just got my little sister. I can't be consumed with worry for your safety already, now can I?"

"I don't want to worry about you being in danger either," I admit in a small voice.

"Little sis, I live for danger," he tells me proudly. "Besides, I'm the one who protects you, especially when we get to Empire. You don't need to worry about a thing. I'll be your fiercest guard. Actually, Armani might have me beat at that. Stupid fucker is always more dramatic than me, no matter how hard I try."

My palms sweat, and my mind whirls. "When we get to Empire? Like I'm going there? With all of you guys?"

"Well, just me, Nico, and Remo with Armani because he teaches there. The rest of the Moretti men have graduated already."

My throat feels painfully dry, and I thread my fingers together nervously. "Why would I go? Dad didn't say…" I blink back tears. "He's sending me away? Did I do something wrong already?" I just got here.

"Oh shit," he curses, eyes going wide. "Are you about to cry?"

I sniffle, and he jumps out of my bed. "Daaaad! I think I broke my sister! Help!"

"What did you do, stronzo?"

I start furiously wiping tears away with the back of my hands because that's not the voice of my father. It's bad enough my brothers met me with puffy eyes and a tear-stained face, I don't need any of them to witness a meltdown. Let alone two of them at once.

"Go away," Matteo warns, darkening his tone. "You're the worst person to make her feel better. Go get Dad."

"You act as though you can instruct me, little brother," Apollo scoffs, shouldering his way into my room.

Sniffling away the last of my tears, I'm holding back more as hard as I can.

He tilts his head at Matteo in assessment. "What'd you do to her?"

"I'm f-fine," I croak.

"I was just talking!" Matteo insists.

"Well, there's your first problem. You probably bored her to tears or hurt her ears with your nagging."

My head shakes. "He didn't?—"

"Fucking rude," Matteo growls. "I was just talking about going to Empire, and she burst into tears."

"No, I didn't," I lie stupidly.

"A poor liar," Apollo muses. "That's a family first. A deception class might help."

Class. At Empire. Does everyone know I'm being sent away but me?

My face scrunches, resisting another sob, and Matteo sucks in a breath. "I'm going to get Dad before you make her cry too," he snaps, storming off before I can object.

Apollo merely blinks at me, watching me like a puzzle he doesn't know how to solve. Or, one that he doesn't want to solve.

"Afraid of school or something?"

"He's really sending me away?" I whisper, my throat burning with the words.

He tilts his head like he's figured me out after only five words.

"You think he's tossing you aside once you've just arrived?" Apollo asks mildly. "Seems like a bit of a dramatic leap."

I have the urge to lash out in my own defense, but somehow, his words are also calming me. He hasn't come to the same conclusion as me, and if he's our father's successor, he probably knows how he thinks more than anyone.

Voice wavering, I dare ask, "It is?"

"Yes," he states easily. "For one thing, the next boat to Empire Academy is five months away."

Oh!My eyes widen.

"For another, he wouldn't send you there to get you out of his hair, he'd send you there to keep you safe. He'll miss you, just as he'll miss the others. You can expect emails from him daily, I'm sure."

Less panicked now, I inform him, "I've never been good at school."

He blows out a breath. "Well, you'll fit right in with Matteo then."

"I don't know how to make friends or talk to people," I tack on, clarifying what I meant. My grades were never great either, but interacting with people has always been extra hard for me.

He shrugs. "I'd rather you didn't."

"What if I don't want to go?"

"Too bad for you, I suppose."

Before I can respond, Dante comes crashing into my bedroom, a stressed-looking Matteo following close behind.

"What are you upsetting my daughter for?" he demands, his voice deep and deadly.

Apollo isn't the slightest bit affected by our father's tone. "Your second youngest spawn is the one who made her shed tears, dearest father. I simply rectified the situation. You're welcome."

"If you helped, then we're in an alternate universe," Matteo angrily quips.

"She's fine. Matteo brought up Empire and rightly assumed she would go with them next semester. I explained that she isn't being shucked off to boarding school days after arriving at her new home, and all is well."

"Oooooh, of course!" Matteo rushes out. "We aren't leaving any time soon. I didn't mean to scare you."

"He's easily excitable," Apollo explains. "Like a puppy."

Our father stops their bickering with one look and offers me a hand out of bed. "Are you hungry?"

Shyly, I take it and nod. "I could eat."