Daughter of the fucking year, over here.
Carmine muscles down another bite of pasta like a champ and clears his throat. “Pop, I heard a rumor I wanted ask you about.”
Vito nods, shoveling food into his mouth, completely unfazed by the taste. “What rumor?”
“That Ciara Marchetti just got engaged to Giovani Pagano.”
My brows fly up. “Wait, seriously? Ciara’s engaged?”
Carmy lifts a shoulder, then glances significantly at Dad again. “Well?”
Vito takes a slow, deep breath, followed by a large sip of wine.
“She is, yeah.”
Woah. I’m not exactly besties with Ciara. But we kinda grew up together. Her father, Cesare Marchetti, is head of the Marchetti family, one of the main families in The Commission together with our family, the Amatos and the Scaliamis. Up until recently, the Carveli family was also part of that group. Now, of course, there’s an empty seat at the table.
Carmy whistles. “Damn, that’s a shame.”
Vito’s brows knit. “Why?”
Dante sighs heavily. “Probably because now your degenerate son has to erase her number from his list of potential booty calls.”
Carmy rolls his eyes and flips Dante off. “Give me a little credit, fuck.” He takes a sip of wine, then winks. “As if I’d ever delete that girl’s number.”
Nico snickers. Even I crack up a little. Vito looks far less amused.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he says gruffly, jabbing a finger at Carmine. “I mean it. Yes, she’s engaged to Don Pagano’s son, and you know damn well why.”
I wince. “Wait, it’s an arranged thing?”
Carmy snorts. “As if Ciara Marchetti would ever voluntarily settle down.” He frowns at Dad. “Is this about De Luca?”
My chest tightens.
“Yeah,” Vito says quietly. “It’s about De Luca. It’s always about fuckin’ De Luca these days.”
The table gets a little quieter as we’re all suddenly thinking about it. The Commission only works if there’s five families involved. If there’s four or six, votes could end in ties. If there’s only three, it’s not enough families. And if it’s seven, that’s too many cooks in the kitchen.
Five is the magic number. But ever since the Carveli empire crumbled, there’s been only four. Or there was, until they and a few other auxiliary Commission families decided recently to bring a new fifth family to the high table: the De Lucas, helmed by Nero De Luca himself.
Problem is, no one knew that Luciano Amato and Nero De Luca were distant cousins.
And that means two out of the five families on The Commission might decide to pool their votes and resources into a power bloc.
I can guarantee you, that is why Ciara Marchetti’s father is marrying her off to the son of another powerful New York Italian family. They’re cementing an alliance to shore up power in case the Amatos and the De Lucas get hungry and greedy.
Carmine frowns. You can see the “cocky playboy“ act drop from his face as he switches gears to mafia crown prince mode. It’s always interesting to watch the power dynamics between my brothers. Carmy is definitely the looser cannon. But he is going to be king one day, when Dad steps down. Meanwhile Nico, despite being younger, ends up acting like a big brother most of the time, like he’s helping to coach Carmy into being the man he’ll need to be one day.
“How worried should we be about Nero?” Carmine grunts, suddenly all business.
Dad tips his head from side to side, like he’s weighing out his answer. “I don’t know if we need to be worried. But it’s always healthy to be prepared. Nero is like a young lion. He’s new to being king, and he’s got something to prove to The Commission. It could make him a bold asset to the group, or a tyrant.”
Nico grins as he turns to me, raising his glass. “Well, Bianca, better go get fitted for that wedding dress.”
I glare at him as Carmine laughs. Vito just sighs and smiles, shaking his head. He reaches past Nico to pat my hand comfortingly.
“That’s never happening, Bumblebee.”
We’ve discussed this. At length. I mean, I know how the world I live in works, and the role of mafia “princesses” like me. Marriages are how power is planted and grown.
But years ago, when I was fourteen or so, Vito sat me down and told me I didn’t ever need to worry about that. He told me that no matter what, he’d never force me to marry anyone for political reasons.
“Yeah, we don’t do arranged marriages in this house!” Carmy crows dramatically, pounding the table with his fist. “Isn’t that right, Dante?”
Dante levels a withering look at Carmy as Tempest groans and hides her face in her hands, blushing furiously.
Yes, they had a forced marriage. In fact, in a weird twist, it was Tempest who forced it. But I think it’s safe to say that theirs is one that worked out perfectly for everyone involved.
But as for me, I don’t even know if I ever want to get married period…let alone because I have to for some stupid and crazy mafia reason.
Vito sighs as he sets his fork down. He frowns a little as he glances around the table. Carmine has managed to choke down his cacio e pepe. Nico’s is currently poisoning the begonia plant behind him. I have no idea what Dante and Tempest did to hide the evidence, maybe stashed it in their napkins, but the point is suddenly I realize I’m the only asshole left at the table with a plate full of food.
“You’re not having any more?” Vito asks, looking crushed.
“Ugh, love to,” I smile back. “But I had a heavy lunch.”
“There are starving kids in Africa, Bianca,” Carmine grins across the table at me.
