by Bethany-Kris
“Vote,” one of the men echoed.
“That is what I said,” John replied calmly.
“Yet, you present yourself as the boss, so where is the vote really?”
John smiled coldly. “I am giving you the illusion of a choice, and then I’m going to make my point very clear.”
He lifted his fingers high, and snapped them twice. Siena stayed put on the chair with her hands folded in her lap, and quiet as could be. She knew what was coming, and it didn’t shock her like it did the rest of the men to watch a good twenty more men file into the dining room.
Marcello men.
Enforcers.
Capos.
Trusted people.
Each had a gun in hand, though they kept the weapons lowered, and pointed to the ground at their front. Each man came to stand behind every standing Calabrese man, though they didn’t speak, and in fact, didn’t even look the other men in the eyes.
“I really don’t mind wiping a family out and starting over,” John said, shrugging. “It actually seems like the easier thing to do, but this takes work, too. Building a family, and working the streets takes time. I figure it will be far more beneficial for all of us to simply … accept what’s going to happen, and move on to better success.”
“You can’t be fucking serious,” one of the men said.
John’s gaze drifted to the Marcello man standing behind the Capo who spoke up. His head subtly moved to the side, and the man lifted the gun, and put it to the back of the man’s head.
“You will, from this day forward, refer to me in only the best of ways, and with the utmost respect. You will stand when I enter a room as you should do for your boss, and you will behave as proper made men should in a family. Should I find out you even breathed a slur against me—call me crazy, inept, or anything—you will quickly find your way into a grave.”
John smile, and leaned forward as he pointed a finger at the men. “You are all replaceable. Never think different. I do not care how long you have been a made man, or what got you to this point. You will respect me, or I will be forced to teach you how to respect me. I would much rather leave it to you to figure out.”
Then, John looked over at Siena, and gave her a brief smile. “And my girl—Siena. You will see her quite frequently. With me, or at my home. She is an important presence in my life, and she is to be treated as such. She is to be treated with the same care and respect you would give to your mother, sister, or even your wife. As you want other made men to treat the women in your life, I expect the same. She is not your pet, or your servant. She does not answer to you, and what she does choose to do for you, you are to thank her each and every time you are graced with her presence.
“I intend for her to be my wife, and I expect you to treat her accordingly,” John said with a wave of his hand.
Siena’s throat tightened at those words. Of course, she wanted to marry John. She wanted to be with him forever—but he not used that word with her. He had not yet asked her, but still, happiness slipped through her veins like a drug.
“Do not make me regret choosing this way with you,” John said. “Do not make me think the easier route would have simply been cleaning house one by one. That option, by the way, is still very much alive.”
Instantly, every man but one sat when John stood from his chair. Siena could not hide her smile, but her concerned gaze drifted to the one man who had stayed standing.
“Do you have something to say?” John asked the man.
“I will not—”
John swept his hand in a sharp motion, and the sound that followed was both deafening, and morbid. The Marcello man standing behind the Calabrese Capo had raised his weapon faster than Siena could catch the move.
Now, the Capo was dead. His body slumped over the beautiful, large cherry oak dining table. His blood from the back of his blown out head mixed in with the ruddy brown of the shined table top.
John sighed, and then waved at the rest of the men. “Shall we start, then?”
Sometimes, a forceful show was the way to go.
Siena couldn’t be prouder.
• • •
Siena made a run for the front door, and grabbed the bowl of mini chocolate bars on the way. “I got it this time, John!”
“I like to see them, too.”
He slid in behind her with a grin just as she opened the door to showcase three little boys and one little girl in various ninja costumes. They were by far some of the cutest that had come through for Halloween.
Bending down, Siena held the bowl out for the kids to pick their favorite treats from the mix. “Go ahead, boys … and girl.”
The little girl with the pink and black ninja costume preened at Siena. “I’s can be a ninja, too!”
“You can be whatever you want to be,” Siena told her.
John chuckled in the doorway, and helped her to say goodbye to the kids. Once they had darted back down the steps to where their parents were waiting, she and John headed back inside the house.
“Okay, those were my favorites of the night,” she declared, setting the bowl aside.
John’s laughter followed her into the kitchen. “You’ve said that for every kid that knocks on the door tonight.”
“I can’t help it. Look at them.”
“So hey, my sister is coming down from California for a week or two,” John said.
Siena turned to find he was leaning against the island. “The youngest one?”
“Lucia, yeah. She hasn’t met you yet, and I was hoping we might be able to do something with her, or … try. Then she can get to know you, or something.”
“Why try?”
John shrugged. “She’s still pissed at me for shit that happened a while back. Maybe rightfully so, but it is what it is. I can’t change the past, you know?”
Siena smiled softly. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you—whatever it was.”
“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Of course, not.”
One of her favorite pop songs started to play from the living room, and Siena couldn’t help but dance a little to the beat. She went back to working on the food for dinner that she had discarded when the kids knocked.
She could feel John’s eyes on her as she moved, and it kind of felt like butterflies beating inside her stomach.
It was strange in some ways how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Her sheltered, carefully controlled life was gone, and she was happy.
Sure, things were still a little shaky in a lot of ways. John taking over the family. Her mother was still missing.
Siena was still happy.
She only had one person to thank for that, too.
“Siena.”
She spun on her heels to face John at his call of her name, but she had to look down. He was down on one knee, and had one hand outstretched toward her. He opened up his palm, and sitting inside was the prettiest princess cut diamond resting on a thin, interwoven gold bands.
Her heart thundered.
Her muscles froze.
Her breath caught.
John smiled. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to do this, babe.”
Siena shook her head. “Never apologize for you, John.”
“I love you, Siena. You know that, don’t you?”
God, he had to ask?
“I love you more than life itself, John.”
“I know—look at all you’ve done for me. My father used to tell me that everyone has one person who is their person. One single soul meant for theirs. I didn’t really believe that until I met you.”
She quickly wiped the one tear that escaped from her eye. “You’re my one person, John.”
“And you’re mine, mia amore.”
“Hurry up and ask.”
John laughed. “Siena, will you be my wife?”
“Yes.”
He was up off the floor before she had even finished speaking. His lips found hers as he pulled her imposs
ibly close to his body. Love thrummed through her soul. Happiness buzzed through her mind.
Unfortunately, Siena knew …
Reality was never far behind in her life. She never seemed to hold onto happiness for very long before something came to take it away.
She hoped that wasn’t the case this time.
God.
She hoped …
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JOHN LEANED BACK against the bar, and grinned wide at the sight of the man coming through the front doors of the Brooklyn pub. Andino brushed invisible dirt from his black tweed jacket as the door swung closed behind the three men who followed him in.
Andino’s gaze swept the floor—a predatory gaze, in ways—as he looked for the fucker who had demanded a meeting with him for no other reason than because they said so. A meeting that needed to happen this very day. On Andino’s release from jail. There couldn’t be another time.
John hadn’t given any other information about the meeting, either. Not that it was him who called it, or why he thought he had any kind of clout to call in a meeting with a Cosa Nostra Don. Knowing his cousin like he did, John figured Andino would show up just to make a point to whatever dumb fuck called him in that he answered to absolutely no one.
Seemed he had guessed right, after all. His cousin didn’t look very pleased.
John smiled wider.
Finally, Andino’s gaze found John leaning against the bar, and for a split second, his posture softened. His cousin took him in standing there once more, and raised an eyebrow from across the floor.
It was as though Andino was silently asking, Really, John?
“Hey, we have to get our kicks from somewhere, man.”
Andino let out a laugh, and crossed the floor. His hand came out fast, and struck against John’s already outstretched palm to clap, and then shake. Despite not being a physically affectionate kind of guy, John still pulled Andino in for a one-armed hug before he let him go again.
John took his place leaning against the bar once more as he flicked his hand at the two enforcers of his lingering close by. “Go have a drink, cafones. Relax a minute. We’ll be staying a while before we move onto the next thing.”
“You got it, boss.”
Off the men went without a look back.
Andino, too, gave the two men who had followed him inside the bar a quick wave and a, “Scatter.”
They scattered.
“You look good,” John said, smirking. “I guess jail did something decent for you after all, huh?”
Andino flipped him the middle finger before taking one of the many stools at the bar. He gestured at the bartender with two fingers, and said, “Whiskey, neat.”
Then, his attention was back on John.
“I can’t believe you hauled my ass down to this dirty fucking pub for a drink hours after I get released.”
John shrugged, and tipped his glass of water up for a drink. “Hey, I let you have some time with your wife. Mostly because she threatened everyone who even suggested they wanted to be at the house when you got home, but that’s a story for another day. Bet you used and enjoyed every fucking minute with her, too.”
Andino didn’t deny it. “Yeah, and then I get a call about some arrogant, stupid fuck demanding a meeting with me like he’s got some kind of right to.”
John chuckled. “I knew you would come here just to beat someone’s skull in.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to do, yeah.”
Figures.
“Also,” Andino said as he grabbed the glass of amber liquid from the bartender.
“What?”
“Thanks, John.”
John nodded. “About time I save your ass for once, I guess.”
Andino laughed hard. “Let’s not make it a habit.”
“You are the one with the level head.”
“You’ve got your good qualities, too,” Andino replied in kind.
Turning their backs to the bar, both men overlooked the quiet pub in comfortable silence. John enjoyed this—kind of needed it, really. It had been too long since he just sat down with Andino and did nothing.
“You must be busy as hell lately,” Andino noted, shooting John a look.
“Christ, you don’t even want to know.”
“Try me.”
“The Calabrese organization is a mess. Mind you, it’s a mess I can handle, and one I am handling just fine. It’s still a goddamn mess at the end of the day. I suspected a lot of the men would be difficult, and they are at times, but they’re coming around too.”
“How many did you have to kill to get them that way?”
John cleared his throat. “Half a dozen, or so.”
“Better than I thought.”
“Funny,” John drawled. “It’s not even the men, really. It’s more than that. Their business is shit, Andi. They’ve depended on their affiliations with other families, and small time gangs to keep their crews moving product, and making money. I don’t know if some of the younger made men even know how to go out on the streets, and hustle up a dollar. It’s fucking outrageous. Imagine being the boss who drove your organization to that kind of breaking point. They’re a goddamn shame.”
Andino smirked.
John didn’t miss it. “What?”
“Wasn’t it you and Siena they called the disgrace of your families? Seems they had something to be hiding in their own closets. Makes sense why the brothers were so adamant about trying to get in more on our business. A slice they could take and claim for themselves, I suppose.”
He scowled. “Yeah, well, now I’m left with what’s left of what they were trying to hide.”
Andino nodded. “Yeah, but you were always one of the best Capos the Marcello famiglia ever had, man. Those men have the best to learn from, John. You’re going to do fucking fine, and be raking in all the money.”
He couldn’t help but smile at that. “Better be. I don’t need to be wasting my time—I’m trying to live my life, for Christ’s sake, not spend the rest of it working the streets as a Don.”
“You’ll get it straightened out. I have no doubt. I see you’re all fucking dressed up, too.”
His cousin reached up, and flicked one of the silver buttons on John’s blazer.
“Armani,” Andino said, cracking another smug smile. “The boss only wears the best.”
“I’ve been wearing Armani since I was sixteen,” John said, shaking his head. “The thought of wearing different brands when I know this one fits me well, and doesn’t bother me, makes me want to stick an ice pick in my temple.”
Andino’s brow lifted high. “That’s a little … over the top.”
John shrugged again. “Being bipolar sometimes is.”
And he had his habits for a reason. Things he ate, and the stuff he did. The clothes he preferred to wear, and even the brand of shoes he had bought for years. He was always going to be a little particular, picky, moody, and obsessive.
It was just who John was.
“So what are you doing today?” Andino asked after another minute of silence.
“Taking a break from work to pester your dumb ass.”
Andino shook his head, and grinned. “After, I mean.”
“Taking my fiancée to meet Lucia.”
“Bit that bullet, did you?”
“I waited long enough,” John murmured. “I was not waiting one second longer.”
“Not really by choice that you had to wait, man.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“How do you think little Lucy is going to be with Siena?”
John scoffed. “Siena, she’ll love. It’s me she hates, Andi.”
“Not forever.”
“Right now is hard enough.”
Andino tipped his glass high. “Truth. Consider, though, that she feels so strongly in a negative way about you at the moment because she felt just as strongly about you in a positive way. That means good things—the bridge is not yet burned.”
“Actuall
y, that just makes me feel like even more of a piece of shit. She trusted me, and I took something away from her that she cared about.”
“Give it time. Better days are ahead, John. Far better days are ahead.”
Sure.
But for how long?
• • •
John stayed a few paces behind Siena and Lucia as the two navigated The Annex. Usually, he liked the market because it was yet another place where he could be surrounded by people, but he didn’t need to engage them at the same time. He was all for anything that put him in a crowd, but didn’t make him the center of attention at the same time.
He was only good with that when he wanted it.
Today, though, John was starting to feel like a third wheel as he watched Siena and Lucia chat, and laugh together. He was not privy to their conversation as he didn’t want to intrude, mostly. Lucia had barely given him a hello when he picked her up earlier, but she took to Siena damn near instantly.
Small blessings.
He was counting those up.
“John, you’re out of that jam you like, right?” Siena asked over her shoulder.
Lucia’s gaze drifted to her brother when Siena mentioned his name, but just as fast, hazel fire turned to dark ice in a blink. She looked ahead once more, and didn’t grace him with anymore of her attention.
John sighed.
Siena didn’t miss the exchange, and frowned. Had his youngest sister not been standing right there, he would have reassured Siena everything was fine. He couldn’t do that, so instead, his love was left to try and fix things.
John had come to learn that about Siena.
She was a fixer.
“We can grab some of the jam on the way out,” he told her. “Don’t worry about it, bella.”
He meant for her not to worry about more than just the jam, and hoped his unspoken message got the point across. He seriously doubted that it did, though. Siena just didn’t work that way when it came to John.
Always looking out for him.
Always having his back.
“No, I can make a trip around. I need to grab something else that way, too. You and Lucia keep going. She wants to grab—what is that, again?”