17. Alessandro

The sun shines bright, and the sun setting over Manhattan lets me feel the warmth of the city with a bounce in my step. There's not a problem I can't solve or a person in my way. For the first time in my adult life, I see a path to my future with someone I want beside me.

Memories of my father and mother bloom like a door in the vault of my darkness has opened. Sunday mornings as she cooks and he's handling business, he'd bring her flowers and dance around the kitchen. She'd entertain him for a moment before kicking him out to finish cooking.

"So, 168 hours is all it takes?" Lorenzo asks from the driver's seat.

"Ren, I am in deep. Don't tell anybody."

He laughs loudly. "Don't tell anybody? Have you seen you? You're beaming like a fucking leprechaun with his pot of gold. I even think the scar on your face is lighter. She makes you human in some ways, but a monster in others. Been a long time since the Butcher came out. Word's spreading, you know."

"What kind of words?" I ask him. He's been out of sight the past twelve hours, and whenever he's gone, Lorenzo always comes back with something. Information, money, or bodies... no matter what, he makes good use of his time.

"You sliced that kid up and hung him like jerky in Oz's smokehouse. There's also word the Montegna wants you to take over his law firm."

I shake my head. "People love to talk shit. Whatever happened to that guy after Oz finished with him has nothing to do with me."

The sound of my phone ringing steals my focus, and seeing Oz's phone number irritates me, but I answer the call anyway. "Yeah?"

"You got time for dinner with your Zio?" he asks.

"Where?"

"Same as last week."

"When?"

"Whenever you're free, Alessandro. I'll be here until ten."

"On my way," I tell him and hang up. "Donofrio's, Ren."

"You got it."

The fight of rush hour traffic on a Monday evening is annoying, but we arrive to the restaurant eventually. Lorenzo opens the door for me, vigilant and eyes scanning the street for possible threats.

The same aromas of garlic and olive oil greet me inside, but this time, there are a handful of people eating dinner. Oz is in the back room waiting patiently with a cigar in one hand and a drink in the other.

"Come, have a seat, Alessandro. Tell me how the Butcher of Howard Beach is prepped and primed for taking over the De Luca Family organization."

I roll my eyes and sit down. "Those are rumors, Zio. Always been there and probably won't change any time soon. So, what's this meeting about?"

"I ordered the Branzino for you, if you're in the mood to eat."

"That's fine." The food comes out after he signals to the server. Everything looks delicious, but I'm not in the mood to eat.

"I've been talking to some contacts in Sicily. They have a way to import some crates, specialty goods that can bring in some big bucks. I'll need you to get some of them fancy boys in suits you mix and mingle with to wave some customs regulations and things like that."

"I can call up Homeland Security to get you a special pass to import illegal guns. It'll only take a day or two, tops," I tell him with sarcastic confidence.

"That's unnecessary. You owe me. Yesterday wasn't the only time I got rid of a body for you. You need to do this for the Family, or are you so strung out on the Rossi pussy that you can't think straight?"

Anger surges through me, fisting my hand under the table before regaining my composure. "Don't speak about my wife, Oz. You have no idea what I do for Family. My loyalty has never been questioned, and the scar carved into my back is the boldest sign of that. Running guns is idiotic at a time like this. That's not an operation you can start up like a fucking lemonade stand."

"What? You're not a fan of Uzis from Oz?"

I shake my head. "I'm done with this conversation. We'll wait until Pop is back to running things and revisit. But I know you're going to do whatever you want to do. Just keep me out of it, and when shit hits the fan, just remember, I told you so."

I refuse to eat here and leave a few bills to cover the meal and head out of the back room. Just as quickly as I arrive, I leave Donofrio's. Instead of heading home, we head to my father's place. If Oz is hellbent on dealing guns, I'm sure Pop has some ideas of his own.

"Don't let your uncle get to you, Less."

"Ren, he's got something up his sleeve and I just don't want Pop to get caught up in some bullshit."

When we get to the house, there are two guys sitting in a car parked on the street and one walking around the perimeter of the house inside the fence. Lorenzo nods to them, and they tip their heads to him. The closer we get to the house, the louder the argument becomes. I look to Lorenzo, who simply shrugs his shoulders.

"I told you that hurts. No man's legs is supposed to bend that way, woman." My father's voice is thunderous, but it's not a tone of distress.

"For the last time," Lara argues back, "You need to do this to make sure blood flows to every inch of this body of yours. I'm going to help you help this anti-blood-clotting medicine do its job, and you're going to like it. Now, stretch, Sandy."

"Sandy?" Lorenzo and I laugh.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you left the door unlocked!" Pop shouts from the living room floor.

"So what? The fellas know I'm here, and you got this place locked up tighter than Fort Knox. No one's getting through the guards on the street or that guard in the yard," Lara replies and turns to me. "Did you see the drones, Alessandro? Drones in the air, circling like damn vultures."

"The only vultures circling are the assholes with a death sentence who dared take shots at the Family. Way to go, Alessandro," he says with Lara snugly straddling him with his leg lifted in the air, arms stretched out beside him, and his face twisting every time she presses his thigh closer to his head.

Lorenzo closes the door behind us, and Lara lets my father up. The stagger in his gait worries me, but he pulls me in for a hug with a hearty pat on the back.

"My son, the butcher, yeah? I love the way people scatter after hearing your name. What you did was great, reminding these people that the De Luca Family isn't to be fucked with. That you are a terror to be feared, and no one should ever cross you."

"I wish people would stop spreading rumors. Hopefully, a body doesn't turn up or else I'm sure an investigation by NYPD is gonna kick off. The last thing I need is them trying to bug my house."

"You got rid of him?" Pop asks.

"No, Oz did it. He reminded me at Donofrio's that it wasn't the first time."

"He doesn't like to be the nameless shadow of the organization. Sometimes, you make him feel useless. Every once in a while, he's gonna take a jab at you, ya know? He's harmless."

Lara pokes her head into the living room. "Do you want any coffee?"

"Yeah, black and three sugars," Pop says with a smile.

Lara waves a hand at him. "Not you. You're getting that green smoothie to go with the kale salad and steamed salmon."

"How about some chicken marsala, a little vino, and some stuffed mushrooms? Ooh, and some broccolini if I need something green," Pop replies.

"Absolutely not. Once I get your cholesterol under control, we're going to work on losing a few pounds. More exercise and less cheese. Dairy is wreaking havoc on your system."

"You're wreaking havoc on my system," he replies, and I shake my head. It's nice to see him smiling again, in the hands of a woman who can handle him.

"No thanks on the coffee, and don't worry about food. Evelyn's got my fridge stocked with croissants and ravioli."

"Alright, fellas, dinner will be ready in a few anyhow." Lara winks at my father and disappears into the kitchen. Pop follows her, still fussing about his dinner, leaving me alone to stare at our old family pictures. It sends warmth vibrating through my body. Pop's eyes are bright, full of life, and even his energy is different. No, it's not different, it's back. The man in the kitchen is the same guy who used to twirl my mother around on Sundays. There's a lightness to him that mimics my own. The De Luca men being loved is something to marvel at, right?

Well, at least, he's being loved. I know Evelyn cares about me, but there's still so much up in the air. When Pop comes back, happiness is in his eyes as he gives me a small navy-blue velvet ring box. There's an emerald-cut diamond engagement ring with a dainty, platinum, infinity looped wedding band. There are tiny diamonds set inside every loop.

"Those were your mother's. I know that she'd want you to have them. After everything you've been through, I know Evelyn may not be the one, but you should know love, Alessandro." His voice is quiet.

I throw an arm around his shoulder. "You should know love again, too, Pop. The more I think about it, the more I feel like she can be the one for me. She saw the scar and didn't run screaming or anything. She actually cried for me."

"That's a good woman. You need someone who's compassionate to complement the kind of man you are. You can tell how fiercely a woman loves you by how angry she gets about you."

I let out a sigh of agreement. "Or how many men I'd skin alive to protect her. That didn't seem to scare her, either."

"Even better because you don't have to lie to her. If I never told you before, I'm proud of you, Alessandro. Taking the pain that bastard did to you as a kid and turning it into the thing that makes people fear you the most? Brilliant. My brave boy, loyal to no end and ready to give your life rather than sacrifice your father. You were always different, but that moment made you a man among giants. I love you."

"I love you, too, Pop. I'd hope that Zio would see that."

"He did, that's why he got rid of the body after that entire ordeal. Made it good and gone. Stay for dinner. Tell Lorenzo to come in and take a load off, too. He's the one who got the drones, you know. Says he can watch all our properties from one location. What do ya say?"

How can I turn him down after he gave me my mother's rings?

"Of course, Pop. We'll stay for dinner."