He greeted my father, nodding his head at me as he sat down at the table in the spot that his father would have sat if he wasn’t serving life in Cedar.

He hadn’t been a rat and everyone took turns visiting him, my father kept his commissary filled and the guards palms greased to give him a cushy life there. It was a sign of respect to take care of him for his service to the family.

My cousin Francesco was my best friend.

We had grown up together, as close as brothers. He was a couple years younger than me but Fransisco was different from me. I might have been bulkier but he was lean and strong, the sort of guy you wouldn’t look at twice until he was holding you by your throat choking the life out of you.

And he liked that role of choking the life out of someone.

Francesco was the villain of stories, the one who would kill on command and not lose any sleep over it. He’d go to St. Leonards after, say his rosary in penitence, and be in bed with whatever willing girl would have him.

And there was a never ending line of women who wanted him.

We looked like brothers, same curly hair but instead of wearing it slicked back, Francesco let it grow long, preferring the current style of it shaved on the sides and wild on top.

His eyes were the same as his mothers, a light green that held no feeling. We were about the same height, our builds different but he could still pass as my younger brother.

“Francesco, so good of you to join us.”

My father wasn’t mad about him being late. I don’t think he ever got really upset with Francesco. He always did his job and served the family first. My father appreciated the sacrifice his brother had made and looked after his nephew like a son.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I woke up in quite a tangle this morning but I couldn’t miss the meeting or Dante’s engagement party. I am looking forward to seeing the bride.”

This is the problem with Francesco. He didn’t quite understand that a woman could be off limits and had been on the hit list of many husbands in the North End since he was sixteen years old.

He wanted to be the villain in the story.

“Business first.”

I looked at my father, giving Francesco a quick glance to let him know that his comment about my bride hadn’t gone unnoticed but I would deal with that after.

But he flashed a smile at me like he couldn’t wait to see me try.

Bastard.

“We have a meeting next week with the Cartel contact. We can talk about where they move product and if we increase our product we buy I’m sure that it won’t be a problem.” My father nodded in agreement with me, “We also have a big game going on this weekend and have invited a lot of people to come to it on Friday night and Saturday. I’ve planned to have the game start at 11 after the restaurant clears to avoid too many people seeing what is going on. The house should be able to get close to a million if we play our cards right.”

The pun slipped out as my father nodded, I could see he was impressed with the numbers that I was giving to him.

He hadn’t been sure about me opening the Inferno so to show him that I was succeeding at it made me stand a bit taller, proud of the work that I had put into this dream.

“The restaurant is already cleaning close to fifty grand a night on the weekend. It’s been a strong opening.” I offered numbers for the legit side of my business.

The pride was in my voice and the feeling swelled as my father stood, pressing his hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“You’re doing good work, Dante. Will you host the contact at your club?” I nodded in confirmation, “Good work, my son. I will come to see the game on Friday just so they can see my face and know that I’m still around. But after the wedding we will make it official. Dante will be taking over.”

My heart squeezed at the idea of continuing my fathers legacy. Building on the criminal empire and turning a lot of things around to make it clean.

I wanted to hand over the businesses I built to my children, to give them a clean start and not to have to know dirty hands. Leading a mafia family wasn’t going to give them that.

“Now, your mother wants me home to change before this party and before we see your beautiful Ilaria.”

The meeting was over now and I sighed in relief, looking at Fransisco who was looking at me with a knowing smirk on his face.

It would be Francesco who would eventually run this all; he didn’t mind the risk of his life. Being on the wrong side of crime was like breathing to my cousin and I knew he would be the leader they needed. My father would be dead before I gave it to him; we both knew my father wanted me to be the heir.

“I have time for one drink before I have to change.” I tell my cousin as he just smiles, standing up and following me to my office.

I pour us each a heavy handed tumbler filled with scotch. The soft clink of glasses before I lean on the desk, looking at him eyeing the office that we’re in.

Francesco always took in his surroundings. I joked he was always looking for an exit as soon as he entered somewhere which was why he would make a better head to our family.

“I have a question for you.” His eyes were on me, interested in what I’m about to say, “Be my best man.” He smirked at this, like I had told him a joke.

“You trust me around your bride?” He teases like it’s a joke and I thought about the times he had slept with my girlfriends just to prove to me that they weren’t loyal.

I sip heavily on my scotch before leveling him with a look that was all business.

“Ilaria is different, Francisco. She’s not just a girl to me.”

He could see it in my eyes, knew that this wasn’t the game children play but something had changed. Maybe it was me that had changed, finally growing up and realizing more about life as I aged.

Maybe it was the Ilaria effect.

The way she smiles at me, how it reaches her eyes as she jokes so easily. It could be the way she curls up next to me at night, her head on my arm as she buries herself in my body letting me keep her safe. It could be that she trusts me, looking at me in a way that made me feel like I was superman here to save the world instead of destroy it.

“Oh cousin, you have it bad.” He was looking at me with his eyes twinkling in delight, as if I told him a joke, “Did your girl send you flowers?  How sweet.” His words stop me as I look in the corner, frowning at the red roses that were sitting there.

Walking over I snatch up the card in front of them, my heart beating as I read the florist note.

‘Couldn’t deliver. She doesn’t work there.’

What had Ilaria done?

And more importantly if she quit her job what had she done all day?

We were less than an hour away from our engagement party and I hadn’t heard from her at all today.

I had thought it had been work and then busy with getting ready for the party. I had expected her to thank me for the flowers when she saw me or chalk up her lack of communication with life being crazy. But now I was thinking of how Ilaria reacted the last time I had messed up.

Was she going to show up tonight or was my fiancée somewhere around the world playing her game of hide and seek?

“You look upset, Dante. Trouble in paradise already?” Francesco’s smile fades as he catches my glare but he had no idea just how bad it was. “I’ll show myself out. I need to head home to change.”

When he is gone I pick up my phone, dialing Ilaria’s number as I pray to  God that she answers it. Hoping that she was safe and that she wasn’t going to stand me up in front of all our friends and family.

“Dante.”