by Nicole Fox
“Oh, that’ll be fun, Mommy! Are you going to play with us, too?” Those bright-green eyes watched me in the rearview mirror.
I cringed inwardly. “We’ll see. But I know Daddy wants to have his time with you, too.”
“But I want us all to play together,” he whined.
Turning down the side road that led to the park, I didn’t know how we were ever going to get past this. Christopher, though only five years old, had listened carefully every time I tried to talk to him about the divorce. He said he understood, but I knew there was only so much he could really comprehend. Every time he told me he wanted the three of us to be together again—to be a family again—it made me want to cry. Or puke. I couldn’t explain to such a young child how I had endured endless nights of rape and beatings. I couldn’t make him realize that his father was a terrible example of what a man should be, and that if I had my way, he would never have to see Joe again. I worried constantly that somehow Christopher would come out of the whole experience believing I was the bad guy, when I had been the victim.
That’s not to say I wasn’t at fault. I never should have married him. Joe was always one who enjoyed bending or even breaking the rules, which is why I was so surprised when he decided to be a police officer. But I soon came to realize that he felt it put him in a position of power, where he could not only evade the rules, but get away with it. There were plenty of good cops out there, but Joe wasn’t one of them.
I pulled onto the asphalt between mini vans and new SUVs and put the car in park. Joe was already there, waiting impatiently on a bench. He had dressed in his uniform, ready to go on shift as soon as our little visit was done. At one time, I had thought he was handsome in dark blue. Now, I could see that it only accentuated his skinny frame and the slight paunch he was growing. How had I ever found him attractive? How had I ever been so scared of him? Of course, I knew that he didn’t need to be a big man to inflict pain. His insanity made up for it all.
“You’re late again, Sophia,” he growled as I got out of the car and went around to the passenger side back door to let Christopher out.
I glanced at my watch. “Only by a few minutes. It’s hard to get out the door when I have to get him ready, too.”
“Yeah, it’s so hard being a mom,” he said sarcastically. “If you can’t handle it, then maybe I should just go get custody of him.”
Deep down, I knew it was nothing but an empty threat. It wasn’t the first time he’d said such things, and I had yet to see any legal papers come through the mail. But I also knew that if he did decide to go after him, there would be little I could do to stop it. I had no money for a lawyer. The money from my part-time job as a waitress didn’t go very far. And, besides, Joe was a cop. He was a servant of the community. No judge would turn him down, especially if he turned on the charm.
Instead, I just ignored his dig. He was just doing it to aggravate me anyway. “He’s excited about spending some time with you.”
“Of course he is.” Joe yanked open the door to the car. “Come on, champ. Let’s go!” His voice was too chipper.
I found myself a place on a bench and wished I didn’t have to watch. There was something inside my gut that twisted around on itself every time I saw the two of them together. Christopher deserved to have his father in his life. He was lucky that Joe was even willing to come around. But I didn’t like the idea of them getting too close. Call it jealousy or possessiveness, but it bothered me. Christopher was my baby. I had raised him. I had done all the diaper changes, all the late nights, and all the worrying and fussing and bathing. What had Joe done? He barely even kept up with child support, and the amount was never enough to keep me from worrying.
“You go ahead and swing, buddy. I’m just going to go talk to mommy for a second.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. What was it going to be this time? I fought to keep myself from cringing away from him as he sat on the bench next to me.
“Sophia.”
“Yes?”
“When were you going to tell me that Christopher isn’t mine?” Joe kept his gaze on the child, his face carefully neutral, but his eyes intense.
“What?” I turned to face him. “What are you talking about? Of course he is.”
Joe shook his head and looked between his knees at the ground. “I’d always had my suspicions. I knew there were too many parties that I took you to. I saw the way you looked at the other cops on the payroll. Or others …” He trailed off as though I should know what he meant.
“Do you care to explain yourself, or do we have to play the guessing game again?” I snapped. I was tired of his shit. I had tried to keep from arguing with him, but he always made me do it again.
“Come on, Sophia. I’m not stupid. A little blind, maybe, when I don’t want to see the truth. I could explain away that black hair by tracing it back to either your family or mine. But the green eyes? The lips? The way he holds himself? It’s all right there. I can see it, plain as day in front of me.”
I swallowed. I’d had my own suspicions, too, but as long as Joe had never confronted me about it I’d had plenty of reasons to pretend I hadn’t done what I had done. Unfortunately, Christopher was growing into his looks, and he definitely didn’t look like Joe. His face was fuller, his airs more confident, and his smile freer. I had seen those exact same things before, but on someone else. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Hey, my work with the Santora family has been more than profitable. I knew just as well as they did that having a cop on the payroll would be beneficial to both sides. I just didn’t realize they were getting my wife in the deal.”
“I’m not your wife,” I reminded him stubbornly. It wasn’t the point, and I knew it, but I didn’t care. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” At least, I could try to think of it that way now. But when Joe had gotten drunk and told me of the deal he’d made with Tonio Santora, I’d thought he was crazy. Working with the mob? It could ruin his whole career! But it soon became clear that this was more than a simple business agreement. We were part of the Santoras’ lives. Joe took me to parties and dinners with them all the time. I was scared, at first, but I soon became intrigued. They were all so confident and independent. And dangerous. I wanted to know more about them.
And I had come to know plenty more about them when Ciro Santora had swept me aside at a party and taken me upstairs. As the underboss and Tonio’s son, he was important. Nobody denied him anything, and I wasn’t going to either. Just looking at him had made my panties wet. He was tall and muscular, with startling green eyes and wavy black hair. I fell straight into bed with him. He’d taken his time, ravishing me over and over again while my husband was just one floor down, probably flirting with the female bartender. I had known it was wrong, but it had felt so good to have someone pay so much attention to me. He wanted me to come repeatedly before he was ready to do the same. It had been the one night of wild passion in my life.
But that didn’t mean he was Christopher’s father. The timing was right, and he had the looks. In my heart, I couldn’t deny it. But I had to, in order to protect my son and myself. “If you were so concerned, you should’ve had a DNA test done before we got divorced.”
Joe’s fist curled in his lap. “I didn’t think I had to. I knew there was something fishy going on with you, but I wanted to believe you wouldn’t do such a thing. Now, though, I know for sure. Christopher is the spitting image of Ciro Santora.”
I scoffed. “I haven’t even seen him in years, Joe. As you may recall, I stopped going to your little mob functions as soon as I found out I was pregnant. I don’t want Christopher around that kind of stuff. I don’t want him growing up thinking that murder means profit, or that it’s okay to extort money out of innocent business owners.” As true as that was, I knew there were other reasons. If I’d had to be around Ciro again, there was no way we would have been able to keep our hands off each other. He might not have been the most upstanding citizen, but he was strong and handsome. He was so much more than
Joe could ever think about being.
“You wouldn’t have had to see him for, what, six years or so?” Joe reasoned. “He’s not mine, and you know it.”
“If this is some scheme to get out of paying child support, it won’t work,” I spat. “I’m not just going to lie down and take it like I used to. I’m tired of your bullshit, Joe. I don’t deserve it. My only mistake was that I was dumb enough to love you once.”
He laughed. “What? You don’t love me anymore? Sophia, you need to stop denying it. You know you miss me.” His hand clamped down on my thigh. “You have to admit we had some good times. And if you had a little indiscretion, well, I’m sure you can find a way to make me forget about it.” His finger crept upward.
I shoved him away, flinching. If we had been anywhere but a public park, he would have slapped me at the least. Being divorced wasn’t going to make any difference. He still thought he had a right to me. “You want to believe Christopher isn’t yours because you’re constantly looking for my faults. You want to believe that you’re the good guy. But I’m not listening to it anymore.” I stood and crossed the gravel to catch Christopher as he reached the bottom of the slide. “It’s time to go.”
“But, Mommy!”
“Don’t argue with me,” I whispered harshly. “We’ll come back another time. Tell your father goodbye.” I waited testily while he gave Joe a quick hug.
“You don’t want to do this, Sophia,” Joe warned as I headed for the car.
I turned back to face him, Christopher’s dirty hand still clasped in mine. “Trust me, I do.” As soon as Christopher was safely buckled in, I left the park as fast as I could without going over the speed limit. I didn’t go home. If Joe was following us, he would expect that. Instead, I drove around aimlessly, trying not to cry and looking for some landing spot for us for the afternoon.
I finally pulled into a parking lot where a hot dog stand had set up for the day and rummaged in my purse for a few bills. I turned around to face my son. “Want to get some lunch? We can share a soda.”
He had been upset to leave the park, but the promise of food perked him up. “Yes! Can I have ketchup? And mustard? But no relish this time, Mommy. I don’t like pickle puke.”
I laughed at his little joke, but I was slowly realizing as I watched him speak that there was no denying Joe had been right. His accusations had been backed with anger over the divorce, but that didn’t make them lies. I had slept with Ciro, and I had enjoyed it. I didn’t regret getting my wonderful son out of the bargain, but I had a whole new set of trouble on my shoulders now.
“Of course,” I finally replied. “No relish.”
Chapter Three
Ciro
“Ciro! It’s good to see you!” The bartender, Randy, held up a bottle of beer. “Can I entice you tonight?” The pub, with its solid-oak bar and stamped-tin ceiling, was over a hundred years old. It was the kind of place where old men went to order the good stuff and reminisce about old times, and where younger adults came because they thought it was cool to be someplace so old-fashioned.
I laughed. “Not just yet, Randy. You know I’ve got a meeting, and we need as little alcohol in that room as possible if we’re all going to come out alive.” I ran my hand along the smooth wood of the bar as I passed in front of it.
Randy put the beer back in the fridge. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Besides, you’ll be Don before you know it, and then you can run it all the way you want to.”
Gesturing at him to keep his voice down, I checked over my shoulder to see who was in the room. It was early yet for the bar scene. A few older gentleman in driver’s caps were sitting in the corner, but they didn’t pay any attention to us. “You better watch it. Of course I’ll be Don. But that doesn’t mean everyone wants to hear about it. Big T is the favorite around here, and I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not on his side. I mean, he’s my father after all.”
“No, no! Of course not! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Randy’s eyes had gone wide in his pale face. He’d spent too much time in this windowless bar.
I waved off his worries. He thought he would get fired or whacked for his indiscretion, but I knew it was too hard to find a good replacement. A bartender who could keep his mouth shut (outside the family anyway) was hard to come by. “It’s fine, Randy. Let’s just not discuss it until things are finalized, okay?” I made my way around behind the bar and pushed open the door to the back room. It didn’t look like much besides a store room for alcohol and the kind of cheap bar food that people seemed to like. I reached under a nearby shelf and lifted a small lever, watching with pleasure as a hidden door swung open silently.
To the naked eye, it didn’t look like anything more than yet another piece of wood paneling in a place full of the stuff. But it was the perfect spot for the Santora family meetings. Nobody could question us for coming in and out of the bar, a place we owned and operated. But they also would never be able to find out exactly where our meetings were held or what was discussed. It was helpful to have a place that had survived prohibition.
“Ciro! You’re late!” My father sat at the head of the table, his belly touching the edge of the heavy wood. He scowled at me, his dark eyebrows squirming. “I don’t know how you expect to be Don one day if you can’t even show up to meetings on time.”
I smiled and tried not to roll my eyes. We’d had this conversation before, and it always went the same way. “I’m right on time, Pop. Just like always.”
The scowl deepened, emphasizing Tonio’s jowls. “If you aren’t five minutes early, then you’re late. Everyone else is already here, and that’s how any successful business man runs things.”
“Since when do we worry about those kinds of things?” I challenged as I took my seat next to Frankie, one of our capos and my best friend. “Our businesses aren’t exactly like the regular nine-to-fives.”
My father nodded emphatically. He stood up to address all the men. “And that’s exactly what we’re here to talk about. We’ve got a lot of irons in the fire, and it’s too much trouble to keep up with all of them. Every year, we rely on more and more men to run the business fronts while we’re doing our own work in the back rooms. But this means we have a looser network and more opportunities to get in trouble with the police. Now, I know we have plenty of good lawyers and even a judge or two on our payroll, not to mention some cops, but I still think it’s time we legitimize everything.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had grown up seeing my father as the head of the family—a strong man who always got his way. He didn’t care about the law or being legitimate. None of that was as important as ensuring the family’s success. “You’re kidding, right?”
That glower turned back to me. “Have you ever known me to kid, son? There’s nothing funny about this. We’re at risk, and I want to pull everything in a little tighter. It won’t be that hard to do. Those we’ve employed to keep our business fronts will just keep on with their regular duties, only they won’t have black market sales or drug exchanges happening in the stock room. They’ll have their regular pay. Now, it might reduce our total income slightly, but nobody will be affected that much. I’ll personally ensure that every man is still able to pay his bills.”
The other capos were nodding, and they began calling out suggestions for how Tonio could go about such a large project. Frankie leaned over. “Ciro, did you know anything about this?” he whispered. “I never thought I’d hear those words coming from Big T.”
I shook my head slightly. “No. I knew he was getting ready to retire, but he must be in worse shape than I thought. And if he gets this crazy scheme going, there’ll be nothing left for me when it’s finally over.” I’d been hungry for my father to step down and hand the position of Don over to me for quite some time. I understood that he wanted to make sure I was ready, but it wasn’t as though I wouldn’t still have him around to help me out if I needed it. And legitimizing all our businesses would mean the family was basically don
e. There would be nothing left to become Don of. I pressed my lips together, deciding what to say.
“I think it sounds great, boss.” Bruno Asaro, Big T’s consigliere, leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. He was a tall man with brooding eyes and hollow cheeks, and he looked more like a Halloween monster than a mobster. Still, he had always been my father’s right-hand man. “It makes a lot of sense, really.”
“How’s that?” I countered. “We’ll lose money and it will change the entire dynamic of what we do. This isn’t the kind of thing we can just go into lightly.” Or, if I had my way, we wouldn’t go into it at all.
Bruno gave me a sympathetic look, as though he felt sorry for me for being so stupid. “Think about it, Ciro. The Vincenzo family has been at war with us for a long time. It’s always about territory disputes when it comes to our illegal operations. They want to be the ones who have the monopoly on it all. If we do this, we go ahead and give it to them. The Vincenzos will be the ones to have legal trouble, and we’ll all be sitting pretty.”
“Exactly!” Tonio boomed, glad that someone agreed with him. “We won’t have to waste valuable time and resources battling with the Vincenzos. That will all be sunk into our businesses instead. We’ll no longer be competition, and we’ll be safe from them. Hell, we might even become friends!” He leaned back in his chair and gave a loud belly laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised if the old men in the bar heard it.