5. Blood Bond

FIVE

Blood Bond

MILANA

L illiana, Julian's mom, is a fantastic cook, and she loves being in the kitchen. I've always been complacent about learning how to cook. When it was only me, there just didn't seem to be a reason to make anything fancy. For one, fancy cost money, which I had little of, and secondly, I was so tired by the time I came off shift that I was happy to take home the leftover burger and fries. On a good night, George, the owner, would give me a pie to take with me. Barry and I shared what I had when I could get him to come in. Normally, he would walk me home and then find his way into the alley beside the building.

I offered countless times to let him share my apartment to keep him off the streets, but he always refused. I did get him to give in on cold winter nights, but that was only because I sat outside with him and refused to move until he came inside with me.

I clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, wiping off the counters and making sure the kitchen is spotless before returning to the dining room, where Lilliana insists we eat every night. "A home is meant to be used and lived in," she says. I think she's wonderful. Nothing at all like my own mother.

Mom tried to be a good parent, but she was up against a greedy man who was a complete narcissist. When I was a child, Dad left us alone. I didn't realize those were the best of times. At the time, I thought he hated me, but I look back now and see it for what it really was. Mom and I served a purpose. Mom was expendable after he married her and had a child. They tried to have more kids, but Mom miscarried several times, and all Dad got was me. I was a disappointment from the get-go.

Mom was his maid and his cook. Dad's only use for me was to marry me off to better his position. I was a bargaining chip. Months and years went by, and he would come home angry and lamenting about how he was being overlooked for promotions in Il Destino. Of course, it was always someone's fault. Mom's for not giving him a son. Mine because I wasn't pretty enough to attract the eye of a prominent underboss. He blamed Alessio for being biased against him, and the other underbosses apparently had it out for him. It was never his fault for picking fights and alienating his peers.

My mother was stuck in a loveless marriage, and she came from the school of thought where you follow your husband no matter what. With her parents gone and having not spoken to her siblings in a long time, she let Dad lead her to her death.

Lilliana has an independence that I see her husband foster. Joe isn't a pushover, but he allows Lilliana to flourish in her own way. She's a very caring woman and extremely patient. She's teaching me how to cook and takes her time, letting me do the work while she directs me as to what comes next. When Joe, Fausto, and Julian were complimenting her on dinner, she quickly told them I made the chicken piccata, which I corrected and confirmed that it was under her guidance.

I come back to the living room to see the men talking over coffee about business. Joe is the first to see me, and he cuts the conversation short as I walk in.

"Sorry to interrupt. I just want to let you know that I'm going upstairs to change my bandage before we leave," I say and dash back out.

A few minutes later, I'm struggling to put the tape on to hold the bandage in place, when there's a knock on the bedroom door. I'm sure it's Lilliana coming to check in on me and call for her to come in, only to find Julian at the door. I'm standing with my dress hiked up to my thigh, my body twisted to secure the bandage.

"I–I thought you were your mother." I put down my leg, and the material of my skirt skims over the fresh wound, causing me to hiss from the pain. Julian crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Put your leg up here," he commands, patting the space by his thigh. He sees my hesitation and urges, "Let me help you. We've got to be on our way." I lift my leg, and he gently lifts the dress away. "Hold it here. It'll take a minute." His fingers skim over the skin of my leg and up my thigh as he works. I feel a tingle run through me. His dark, wavy hair, so thick, makes me want to run my fingers through it to feel its softness, and his big hands are gentle on my flesh. You wouldn't think a man this ruggedly masculine could be so gentle. I watch as he works, and when he's done, our gazes meet.

His eyes grow dark, and I sense that he's feeling the same electricity between us. I stay perfectly still. I've had guys hit on me; it's part of a waitress's job. But this is different. The way he's watching me makes my chest tighten and my palms sweaty.

He slowly drops my leg back down, then his arm bands around my waist, and he tugs me closer between his spread thighs. Julian hooks his hand behind my neck and pulls me down so that we're nose to nose.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Julian murmurs, his voice low and sexy. I wait with anticipation as his lips close firmly over mine. His soft lips move gently at first, then more hurried and needy as he deepens our kiss. His tongue explores my mouth, not hurried, but gently, as he guides me through my first kiss. I have nothing to compare it to, but I know that I want more kisses just like this one.

A knock on the door pulls us apart, and Lilliana pokes her head into the room. She knows what we're doing. I feel the heat in my cheeks spread throughout my body.

"Your father is waiting downstairs. I came to see if you needed a hand, but I see that you have it under control," she says slyly. Right now, my face must be lit up like a big ripe tomato.

Without missing a step, Julian comes to his feet, grabs my sweater from the chair, and presses a hand to the small of my back, guiding me toward the door.

"Thanks, Ma. We won't be too late," he says smoothly, not batting an eye that his mother caught us kissing. I'm not as unaffected and falter on the first step, nearly falling down the stairs if it weren't for Julian's strong hands catching me. "Careful, miele mia. Can't have you injuring yourself so close to the wedding," he says with a grin. He knows! He knows darn well how his kiss affected me.

* * *

I n the car, Julian makes me repeat the oath several times.

Anima, corpo, e mente, il mio destino è il destino della famiglia. Il Destino e nostro capo Alessio Cassini, mi concedo.

My Italian is rusty, but I'm picking it up again fairly quickly. Our oath translates like this: "Soul, body, and mind, my destiny is the destiny of the family. Il Destino and our Capo, Alessio Cassini, I give myself to you."

"Loud and clear," Joe tells me. "They must know you mean what you say. These aren't just words. They are a vow and a promise. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. I do give myself to Il Destino , fully. When all others turned their back on me, Julian gave me life. I won't let him down. I won't let you down. I'm aware that he took a chance with me. I swear, he'll never regret it," I say.

"Good. Good." Joe gives me a grin. He doesn't share his smiles often, and I think I just received a great gift.

"We're here," Fausto announces. "This is the first time I've seen a woman take a blood oath."

"Milana is not like most women," Joe says, "and I see Alessio's point of view. He's doing his best to ease the tension. Her father has done a fine job at making a mess not only of his own life, but that of his daughter. Unfortunately, the price is paid by the one that remains."

I let out a heavy sigh. Every time I hear about my father, I want to scream, but it wouldn't do me any good. I hate him! He's dead and gone, yet his actions still haunt me.

As we walk in, Joe stops and turns to us. "You walk in with your head held high. You are not your father." I nod and do as he says. "Do not hold her hand," he tells his son. "She must walk in of her own accord."

"Right," Julian acknowledges, then looks and gives me a wink. "Piece of cake, miele mia."

I didn't know what to expect, but the room is set up as if for a primal ritual, with a basin set in the middle and chairs all around it, with an additional three chairs on the pedestal near the basin. Even stranger is the priest standing off to one side. I don't recognize any of these men except Niccolo and Alessio. Julian told me earlier that Alessio was inviting some of his most loyal underbosses, and their opinions will trickle through the ranks.

"Let's get started," Alessio announces. He comes to his feet, points to me, and calls me closer. I feel people's eyes following my every movement. I stand before him and wait. "Are you ready to recommit yourself to the family?"

"Yes," I state firmly.

Alessio sits in the middle chair and indicates for me to sit on his right and invites Julian to sit on his left. He then turns to the priest and gives him a nod. Whatever he's saying is in Latin, and I have no clue what to make of it. I sit silently, paying close attention. The priest makes the sign of the cross, and I see that all are following suit, so I do as well.

Alessio stands and approaches the basin. "Come." Julian and I follow him. "Who supports this woman to return as a member of Il Destino ?"

"I do," Julian says clearly.

Then, from the front row, Joe stands and says, "I do."

Followed by Fausto saying, "I do."

My heart swells. They're all taking responsibility for me. I want to cry, but in a room filled with big, bad Mafia men, I think it prudent to hold it in.

Alessio holds out his hand, and Julian places his in it, palm upward. Alessio holds a gold-encrusted dagger, the ornate handle embedded with rubies and emeralds. He slices the blade through Julian's palm, and I watch as his blood trickles into the basin. Julian continues to hold his hand over the basin as Alessio does the same with me. The slit isn't nearly as deep, and I whisper, "Please do it right. I give myself faithfully."

Alessio cuts a little deeper, and my blood mixes in the basin with Julian's. Alessio then takes our hands and presses them together. The priest continues, again in Latin. It must be important because the men rise and recite what the priest is saying.

Once the priest is done, Alessio speaks. "Pledge yourself to Il Destino. "

I recite the vow, never taking my eyes off my capo's face.

Alessio turns to the group of men and asks, "Does anyone challenge this initiation?" The responses begin from one end of the room. I hold my breath as each man says a resounding "No." It's not until the end that one man hesitates and shifts his gaze from Alessio to me, then to Julian. I can feel Julian tense beside me. I glance up and see he's not happy, his jaw clenched tight. It doesn't seem to bother Alessio one little bit.

"No," the man finally says, and I let out the breath I was holding. Not until the final two men give their assent does the tension ease from my shoulders. Niccolo comes over to us and hands us some wet towels to clean up, murmuring, "He's a fucker. If he hadn't been one of the original underbosses, I would have killed him myself."

"He's trouble," Julian mumbles, looking over at the older man. He must be in his late sixties, if not early seventies. He's still got a full head of hair, albeit gray, and he does look like he stays in shape for a man his age, but his face is menacing. He must have a permanent scowl, and the others seem to be avoiding him as well.

"We're watching," Niccolo replies. "Wrap your hands and come join us for the final toast. Fausto can take Milana home. We need you to stay to discuss business."

Niccolo leaves us alone as we move off to a quiet corner of the room. "You did well. I'm proud of you," Julian says.

"Thank you. But why did you have to shed blood?" I ask curiously.

"Because I'm sponsoring you. I'm responsible for your actions. Take care, Milana. What you do reflects on me and my family."

"I won't give you a reason to worry," I tell him. He wraps the gauze first around my hand and then his. "I'll have Fausto drive you home. I'll be there early tomorrow morning to pick you up. We have some errands to run."

"I'll make breakfast. Your mom says you love pancakes. I'm learning how to cook," I say proudly, and he grins. "I think I've mastered pancakes."

"I look forward to it." He waves his brother over. "She's in your care, Fausto. Take her straight home."

"You got it, bro. Great job, Milly," Fausto says. "The only other time I've seen a blood oath was my own. This was cool, except for that dickwad. He tries to complicate everything."

"Not so loud. He's still an underboss and has influence. We do not disrespect the elders," Julian warns.

"Fine," Fausto grumbles, but his mood quickly changes when we're handed a glass of champagne to toast the ending of the ritual.