Page 110 of Fake Dark Vows

After their grip on the Port of New York loosened, we found other pathways. The Russians. The Japanese. Hell, even the Irish offered a more promising route to American markets than the De Lucas did.

But after one weekend in Atlantic City, my father came back and declared that he and Antonio De Luca had made an agreement. An arrangement. Binding the two families together.

An oldest son for an oldest daughter.

The irony, of course, is that the oldest daughter was also the youngest daughter. Six years younger than me, Catarina De Luca started out as my friend Marco’s little sister.

That’s how I thought of her. For years. I had known, of course, that we would be married at some point.

My father made it very clear to me when I entered my teens that any female companionship that I managed to wrangle would have to be non-committal at best, because Catarina De Luca would be my wife someday.

As with all of the men in my family, my father had a healthy appreciation for sex workers and mistresses, and while he did not discourage the use of either, he did encourage me to keep it quiet. I didn’t need to be told twice, and it wasn’t like I could mess around too much anyway.

After all, for every private party or club I went to, my bride’s older brother was right there next to me.

I would miss Marco, I supposed.

If I did not hate him so violently.

“What is the intel, Gia,” I say with exactly as much exasperation as I feel.

She slaps down a packet of pictures. “Bodyguard. On her 24/7. Looks like just one though. A condo. I think she nannies for a little girl in the family. Any of the brothers have a good time they forgot to keep under wraps?”

Gia’s puns will be the death of me.

Provided, of course, that any of the other multitude of actors slavering for my demise don’t work out.

“Marco probably not. I imagine he got the same level of emphasis that I did about accidental… mishaps.”

“The others?” she prompts.

I frown. “Dino and…”

“Sal. The hot one,” she clarifies.

“Gia. He is three years younger than you.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Hotness doesn’t have an age.”

Ugh. She sounds so American. “He is the son of the man who killed our parents.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s still hot. Anyway. Either one of them have a surprise baby?”

I sigh. “We should look into it. That type of leverage could be useful.”

“More useful than being married to their precious baby angel younger sister?”

Her tone is sharp. I know she doesn’t approve of this plan.

It is, however, the best option.

“We will have a backup. If the child proves useful, we will make use of it. If Caterina is the most useful, we will make use of her. Find out who is the father, and we will go from there.”

Gia gathers the pictures and taps them sharply, collecting them back into one pile. “You know,” she says with a pause. “You don’t have to do this.”

I close my eyes. “Not this again, Gia.”

“Listen. We can send Enzo. He can work his way up in the organization…”