3. Salvatore

3

salvatore

“Daddy, make me a snowman!” Serena squeals with her brown eyes big and round. She scurries over to me, truly looking like Delphine when she was her age. I’ve seen enough photos to tell.

My little girl dashes straight into my open arms and giggles as I whisk her off her feet and hold her up high so that she’s level with me.

She loves the new vantage point, twisting in my arms to point at the mounds of snow covering our large backyard.

“Please,” she says, “Daddy, I want a snowman!”

“Don’t you mean a snow girl , Rena?”

“Oooh, like me!”

“That’s right. Except you’re still cuter.”

She smiles, showing off her little teeth. “What about my hair? Will she have puffs too?”

“Of course she will. Let’s go make her.”

I walk Serena across the now-frozen lawn with her still hoisted up comfortably in my arms. She’s not the only one wanting to play in the snow this morning.

Dominic and Bryce have already gotten a head start. The six- and seven-year-olds are chasing each other back and forth with handfuls of snow clenched between their gloved fingers. Bryce’s tan face is pink from the cold while frost puffs out in front of Dominic as he lets out a loud laugh once he lands a hit.

His snowball smacks right into Bryce, his aim impeccable.

But the seven-year-old’s not to be outdone. He scoops up another fistful of snow and then launches after his friend for retaliation.

It’s the harmless kind of play between two young boys that makes me grin and shake my head. Meanwhile, I’ve got my princess in my arms, and she expects to be catered to by having a snowman in her likeness crafted.

It’s an interesting start to a Saturday morning.

Delphine’s inside, sipping coffee and chatting with Sasha and Shonda. The second the conversation turned to the Christmas decorations going up in the house, I excused myself under the guise of taking Rena outside.

The excuse was passable, though Delphine gave me a knowing glance.

She understands just why I suddenly wanted to go outside in the snow.

Yet she still doesn’t seem like she really gets it. Or more like she believes it’s her duty to change things for me. Help me overcome more dark things from my past.

I’ve worked hard to be the father I am today.

For most of my life, I was convinced I couldn’t be a husband and father. After the experiences I had growing up, I thought I couldn’t give a woman and our children what they would need in order to live happy, healthy lives, and I refused to be anything like Lucius.

Things have been different with Delphine. I’ve learned it’s possible.

I can be the husband and father I never thought I could be.

You’d think that would solve all the problems. I’d have no more issues overcoming what Delphine would call past trauma. That hasn’t been the case.

As I show an attentive Serena how to roll snow in your hands and build the foundation of the snowman, I’m inundated with bad memories.

I see blood in the snow.

My blood.

I remember how I was seven years old, barely older than Dominic is now, and I’d been out in the snow messing around. Lucius was in his office ranting and raving about some situation involving the Pizzutos.

He’d caught sight of me playing in the snow and glared from the window. One second I was laying in the snow, making angels. The next second, I was laid out in the snow, half unconscious after he’d charged over to smack me around for ‘having too much fun’.

“What d’you think this is, scarafaggio?” he’d snarled, kicking me in the side. “You think this is all fucking fun and games? You think you’re gonna play around like you’re at some amusement park? This ain’t Disneyland! Get the fuck in the house!”

The moment fades before my eyes as quickly as it emerged. Serena’s little angelic voice returns.

“Daddy?” she asks, poking me in the knee. “Daddy?”

“Yes, Rena baby?” I reach out to pull her closer, realizing she’s been talking to me this whole time. “What’s the matter?”

“I wanted to know… I wanted to make her nose!”

“That’s right, who can forget her nose? Do you remember what goes on the nose of a snowgirl?”

“A carrot!” she squeaks excitedly.

“And what’s a carrot?”

“A vegetable. Like the ones Mommy puts in my soup! They’re yummy and good for you too!”

I can’t help the chuckle that comes out of me. My little girl’s smart, just like her mother.

“How about we go grab some from the kitchen? We’ll bring out a few so Dom and Bryce can make their snowpeople too.”

“Okay!”

Her tiny hand curls inside mine as we head back toward the house. The four-year-old skips at my side, as innocent and joyful as can be. The total opposite of me and the dark shadow that seems to follow me everywhere this time of year.

“Psycho! Long time no see.”

Stitches cracks a grin as I walk through the office doors of Nirvana, the nightclub that’s been in the Mancino family for decades. These days, now promoted to capo , Stitches is in charge of day-to-day operations.

I only stop by occasionally.

Stitches pops to his feet the second I walk in and joins me at the leather sofas in the middle of the large office.

“I wanted to see how our competition is doing,” I say, sitting down. I spread out as I do, arm curled along the back and my right ankle at rest on my left knee. “Has Axis been keeping up with Nirvana?”

Stitches scoffs. “You think they’ve got lines around the block like we do? Psycho, Nirvana’s still the club to be at on a Friday and Saturday night. Any night of the week. Even a damn Sunday. The Belinis have tried—and failed—at the nightlife crowd. Nobody wants to go to Axis and listen to their half assed DJ’s playlists and pay thirty bucks a drink. It was foolish of Pauly to think he was ever gonna compete with us.”

“It’s not just the nightclub. It’s the casino too.”

“I haven’t heard good things,” Stitches says. “I’ve sent a couple associates off the streets to check it out. He’s stiffing a lot of his customers. Only gambling addicts keep falling for it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he goes out of business by next year.”

“He’s still an amateur. That much is clear.”

In the years since the last Don, Hector Belini, was taken down, the Belini family has struggled to find its footing. They went from being the second most powerful crime family in Northam to being the bottom rung. Even the bratva and yakuza factions have outpaced them.

To compete, their newest head of the family, Paulio Belini, has been trying to make up for lost time. He’s set into motion several endeavors, hoping to bring power and prestige to the Belini name again.

One of those endeavors has been opening up his own nightclub and casino to compete with Nirvana. It would become a hub like ours for business dealings and other illegal operations.

Unfortunately for Paulio, it sounds as if things have not gone as he hoped they would.

“Maybe in time,” Stitches says with a shrug. “Paulio is young. Even younger than you were when you took the mantle from Lucius.”

“So long as he knows his place, there won’t be any issue,” I say. “Keep a close watch on him. Things have been too quiet. That’s usually when people are plotting.”

“Drink? You look like you’ve got other things on your mind. How are Mrs. Phi and the kiddos? Sasha texted me earlier and let me know that she and Bryce were coming over.”

“They did earlier this morning. Dom and Bryce had a whole hour-long snow fight.”

“That sounds like Bryce. That kid is on ten at all times. He might make a good future enforcer. If he doesn’t grow to be puny like his piece of shit dad was. He could be Dom’s right hand when he takes over.”

I make an amused hum sound from my throat. “Phi still isn’t sold on the idea of her son being involved in the family business. Understandably so.”

“Let me guess. She wants him to go to college.”

“All three of them.”

“You can go to college and still be in the mafia. Look at me.” Stitches gestures to himself, his glasses low on his nose, as he pulls out two glasses and fills them with bourbon.

“You mean like how you failed out of med school?”

“That’s beside the point, Psycho. I only failed ’cuz those professors were uptight and closed-minded. So what if I said it would be fine to do shakedowns on pharmaceutical companies? That should be standard practice if we get what we need. That’s all that matters.”

“You realize you would’ve disqualified yourself right there, right?”

“Good thing I’ve got a better job in the Mancino organization. Dom could too.”

“He’s six. He has time to decide for himself.”

“So what’s the long face for? You seem preoccupied.”

I sigh as he hands me my drink. “You expect me to believe you haven’t heard through Sasha?”

“The last thing I heard from Sasha was about how her water heater’s broken and I should come over to take a look at it.”

“Christmas is a couple weeks away. You know how Delphine is about the holidays.”

“And you’re the opposite. A certified Scrooge.”

“I’m not a Scrooge.”

“Psycho, you once told me you’d be fine with Christmas being wiped off the calendar altogether.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Scrooge,” Stitches says, swallowing his bourbon.

“I don’t like Christmas. It’s not a crime.”

“Well, you did have to deal with Lucius and Stefania during your holidays. Most people wouldn’t like Christmas either if they were you.”

“It used to be that simple,” I say, pausing to think. “It used to be as simple as ignoring the issue because all I had to consider was myself. Even when Phi and I were in a relationship, it was easy. It was one quick day where we exchanged presents and maybe watched some holiday movies. It’s different now that we’ve got kids.”

“It becomes a whole event,” Stitches says, and I nod along.

“Santa visits, decorations, Christmas carols, gingerbread cookies, and everything else that goes along with it. I should be able to just do what makes Dom, Rena, and Danny happy. But then these memories creep up. These bad feelings about it all.”

“You try speaking to Rhino’s wife about it? I thought you had some great sessions when you were doing therapy with her.”

“We’ve talked about it ad nauseam. But therapy’s not a magical solution.”

“It doesn’t erase memories.”

“I’m not sure anything can fix the kind of shit I’ve got going on. Which is what I was always afraid of, letting myself be with Phi. She deserves…”

“Psycho, I’m sure Mrs. Phi would say she deserves you. She’s happy with you .”

“Still doesn’t fix things.”

I drain the glass of my bourbon in a single swallow and then rise up from the couch. “I’ll have to find a way to get through this. Not just for myself. But for Phi and the kids.”