by Leah Wilde
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. His phone vibrated within his pocket, signaling a family member was calling him. Vince groaned and let his head hang down between his shoulders, his whole body sagging as his phone continued to buzz. “All right, all right,” he finally muttered after several more seconds, digging into his pocket to grab his phone and seeing his younger brother Guido’s name flash across the screen before answering. “What?” he said tersely into the phone, too irritated at the moment for any pleasantries.
“Vince,” Guido said on the other end before exhaling loudly. “Vince, you need to come home.”
“Oh, fucking save it,” Vince snapped back. This was just like his brother, trying to guilt him for living his own life. It wasn’t Vince’s fault that Guido was still stuck back home, forever a slave to their domineering mother.
“Vince. Seriously, shut up and listen to me,” Guido said, sounding more intense than Vince had ever heard him before. “You need to get on the first train home. Dad’s dead.”
The words didn’t pierce Vince’s skull right away. They reflected off of him like his brain was holding up a shield to keep unwelcome thoughts out. “What?” he said, his voice sounding weirdly distant, even to himself.
“Dad’s dead. He keeled over sometime this evening. We don’t know what happened yet, but it looks like it was a stroke or something like that. He’s gone. You need to come back as soon as you can,” Guido said.
“He’s…gone?” Vince repeated, the words leaving his mouth slowly as his brain caught up to the reality of the situation. “What?”
“Yeah,” Guido said, sighing heavily again. “Come back to the compound, Vince. Mom needs you.”
Without any further warning, Guido hung up, leaving Vince in silence that just stretched on and on. Vince didn’t know how long he stood there, staring blankly at himself in the mirror until somebody else finally walked into the bathroom, tearing him away from his empty reverie. Dad is dead, he said to himself silently as he straightened up his shirt and cleared his throat, trying to get used to the idea. Dad is dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s fucking dead. No longer with us, no longer living, he’s gone.
Paulie Romano, the biggest mafia don that North Jersey had ever seen, was gone. Forever.
Chapter Two
“Okay, thank you for telling me,” Fiona whispered before she slowly hung up her cell phone, putting it back down on the nightstand next to her bed. She swallowed thickly to clear the lump that appeared at the base of her throat and shuffled down further under her blankets, cuddling up underneath her sheets to counter the cold sweat that just enveloped her whole body. Her boss, Paulie, the man who’d helped her more than anybody else on the face of the planet, was no longer alive. Guido had just woken her up with the news.
“Fuck,” Fiona murmured to nobody. She grabbed the nearest pillow and buried her face into it, screaming until her throat was hoarse, making a scant amount of noise while do so. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
When she wore out her throat, she dropped the pillow and allowed her body to sag against the mattress, limp and useless. She shut her eyes, staring at the blank blackness of her own eyelids, willing herself to go back to sleep, back into her dreams, where none of this had happened. Maybe when she woke back up again, she’d realize that the whole thing was just a nightmare, an awful trick her own brain was playing to torture itself. But the longer she waited, the more and more her head ached, a pounding sensation in her temples growing worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she muttered to herself as she finally kicked the sheets and blankets off her body, letting the cold air wash over her until her legs shivered. She couldn’t afford to run the heat very high during the winter. She laughed a little hysterically and buried her face in her hands as she thought about how much worse her financial situation would become very soon, now that Paulie was gone.
Okay, snap the fuck out of it, she told herself a few moments later. She couldn’t stand pitying herself. It was the most disgusting feeling in the world, as far as Fiona was concerned. So, your boss is dead. So what? You still have to go on. You still have to pull yourself together and act like a person. After all, her dad still depended on her. She couldn’t afford to fall apart.
Fiona wiped the cold sweat off her forehead and sat up slowly, letting her body adjust to the cold for a minute before she put her feet on the ground, stood up, and stretched to wake herself up before heading across the hall towards her father’s room. She knocked lightly on the door before opening it a crack to peer inside. Her dad was already awake, reading the previous day’s newspaper while sitting on his bed. As soon as he noticed her, he patted the space next to, wordlessly telling her to come over and sit by him.
She smiled a little as she complied, settling on the bed next to her father and leaning her head on his shoulder, careful not to put too much weight on him. He had been doing better recently, relatively speaking, but he was still recovering from a heart attack—multiple heart attacks, in fact. He needed to be treated carefully, even if it drove him crazy to accept her tender care. “My boss is dead,” she murmured softly, sighing a little as her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” her father said softly, putting the newspaper down to focus on her. “Was he sick or something? You never mentioned it, if he was.”
Fiona shook her head. “No, I just saw him yesterday, and he was perfectly fine. He’s always been perfectly fine. I can’t believe this.”
Her father was quiet for a long moment, rubbing the back of Fiona’s head soothingly. “These things happen.”
“I know,” Fiona whispered, but deep inside her mind, there was some little voice that resisted. She’d never thought of Paulie as mortal before. He was larger than life, really, the type of person that people tell their grandchildren about, the type of person that filled every moment with joy or terror or intrigue. For Fiona, he was a second father, giving her a job when she needed it most, when no one else would. Now what was she going to do?
She cleared her throat and spoke up, careful not to let the panic she felt bubbling up in her stomach slip into her voice. “It’s just that I don’t know what’s going to happen now, you know?” she said to her dad, keeping her eyes focused on the carpet below them.
“To Paulie’s business?” her dad suggested.
Fiona nodded slowly, even though she wasn’t entirely sure her father understood the whole situation. She’d never really explained to her dad that she was paid for assisting a crime lord, but somehow, she figured that her father was smart enough to pick up on it anyway. If he disapproved, he kept it to himself, probably aware that she only took the job in the first place to help save up for his medical expenses. “Yeah, it’s so sudden. I don’t think anybody was expecting him to go for another ten or fifteen years. I guess his son Guido will take control now, but…” She shook her head at herself, unwilling to state her anxieties out loud to her father. Sure, Guido was a dick that Fiona hated dealing with, and in all likelihood, he was about to become her boss or even fire her. But it was selfish of her to unload her worries onto her sick dad. He had more than enough to worry about.
Even still, his grip tightened on Fiona’s shoulder, keeping her in place as he brushed over the back of her hair with his other hand. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” he said.
“How do you know?” Fiona whispered back, almost embarrassed to be asking for reassurance.
Her dad shrugged. “I know you. You’re the best at what you do.”
“You don’t even know what I do,” Fiona said with a chuckle, thinking about all the drug trafficking deals she’d helped organize over the past year.
“Doesn’t matter,” her dad replied easily. “You’re smart, and you’re loyal, and you’re resilient. No matter what happens, it’ll be okay, honey. I know it will.”
Fiona smiled up at her dad, lightly squeezing his hand. “You always know how to make me feel better.”
Her
dad shrugged and grabbed his newspaper to resume his reading again. “It’s my job,” he said.
Fiona straightened up her posture and toughened up her shoulders before getting to her feet. “Right. Time to get to work.”
“So early?” her father asked, not looking up from his newspaper.
“Yep. No sense slacking off just because I’m not sure who my boss is anymore,” Fiona said with a laugh. “Anyways, they might need my help planning the wake and funeral and everything.”
“Atta girl,” her dad said as she left to get dressed for work.
Thirty minutes later, Fiona stepped into the Romano compound feeling awkward and acutely aware of how out of place she looked among the clumps of relatives and family friends who’d gathered in the immediate aftermath of Paulie’s death to give their condolences. She exhaled heavily and headed towards Paulie’s office. Maybe there was paperwork to deal with. Paulie definitely left behind a detailed will, even though he never let Fiona see it while he was alive.
The door to Paulie’s office was already open, and Fiona was halfway inside the room before she noticed that someone was there, sitting at Paulie’s desk. At first glance, she thought it was Guido, but on second look, she realized that it was someone else entirely, someone she’d never seen before. It was a young man with thick, dark hair, his head bent over in one large broad hand. He was just staring down at Paulie’s desk, his other hand slowly tracing circles on the surface of the desk, right next to an overturned coffee cup and a huge stack of papers.
Fiona was tempted to say something. Anything. She didn’t know why, but the deep sadness in the man’s eyes called to her, like a rope tugging around her waist. But she held herself back, just staring at him. She knew she was being rude, gaping at somebody who was obviously in the clutches of grief. But she gave herself a few more seconds, drinking in the image of the handsome young man, who looked like he had a shroud of darkness hovering around him like a heavy raincloud.
He deserves to grieve in peace, she finally told herself, backing up out of the room and gently shutting the door gently behind her. But somehow, she felt like she understood his pain, even if she’d never seen him before. She felt like she carried the same pain in her heart, an ache that could never be filled.
Chapter Three
Vince watched out of the corner of his eye as the beautiful woman receded from Paulie’s office, which apparently belonged to him now, according to the will waiting for him on the top of the desk. Jesus Christ, Vince thought to himself as he reached over for his father’s last will and testament, rereading the part that said, “I leave all executive functions of Romano Enterprises, including all its affiliated companies, to my eldest son, Vincent Antonio Romano.” Vince ran his fingers over his own name, halfway hoping he could make the words disappear if he read them enough times. The whole thing felt so surreal, like something out of a drug-fueled nightmare.
He didn’t have time to agonize over it, though, as there was a knock at the door a few moments later. When he didn’t call out in response, the door swung open, revealing his younger brother Guido, standing there with a scowl on his face. “Have you read it yet?” he asked through clenched teeth.
Vince nodded slowly. Well, actually, he hadn’t read the whole document from start to finish, but he saw the part that mattered, the part that denied Guido control over the business. “How did you guys find it so quickly?”
“It was in the top drawer of his desk,” Guido said with a shrug. “One of the servants found it, probably searching for cash or something.” He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.
Vince could practically see tangible waves of rage wafting off of Guido, barely contained in his tiny body. It wasn’t like Vince didn’t understand why his brother was so angry. Despite the fact that he was the younger brother, Guido had spent the last ten years learning the business from their father, determined to become the next don. Yet here the will was, the terms written in black and white, plain as day. Vince was the heir, not Guido, and he didn’t even know why he was chosen.
Regardless, Vince had another question in his head, currently taking precedence over his father’s will. “Did you see that girl that passed by here a few minutes ago?” he asked Guido.
His younger brother rolled his eyes, probably annoyed that Vince appeared to be on the lookout for a piece of tail mere hours after their father’s death. “I’ve told you about her before, remember? Fiona? Dad’s assistant?”
“Oh,” Vince said. “The one who Dad….?”
“Fucked?” Guido answered for him, a slow grin spreading across his face, making him look like a rabid animal. “Yeah, he drilled that gold mine, if you know what I mean.”
Vince grimaced, his mind suddenly filled with dozens of disgusting images, mental pictures of his older father nailing the beautiful young woman he’d just caught staring at him moments before. It was revolting for several reasons, actually, especially the fact that his dad had been married to his mother for thirty-odd years now. “And it’s been going on for how long? A year? I’m surprised Mom didn’t kill Dad herself.”
Guido shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “Mom’s tough. She gets it.”
“You sure about that?” Vince asked, feeling highly skeptical that his intense, controlling mother would just tolerate being disrespected that way.
“Well,” Guido said, chewing on his bottom lip briefly, “I think she was gearing up to fire her, actually.”
Vince felt a weird mix of emotions at that. “Really? Because of the affair?”
“I guess,” Guido said with a shrug. “Anyway, if you’re going to try to hit that, first of all, good luck because I haven’t been able to get it in yet. And second of all, try to make it happen fast because she might not be here tomorrow.”
Vince bit the inside of his cheek, fighting with himself to hold back the words he was so tempted to say. Ah, fuck it, he finally thought. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s up to me whether she stays or goes,” he said casually, pointing to his father’s will, which still rested on the desk in front of him.
Anger flickered across Guido’s face, lighting up his eyes for a moment before they went blank again. “You want to deal with it?” he said stiffly. “You’ve never fired anyone before, have you?”
Vince shrugged, even though the answer was clearly a “no.” He picked up his father’s will and waved it in the air like a flag. “This gives me the power to do it now, right?”
Guido stared at him for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching, apparently fighting to stay calm while Vince exerted his new authority. He finally nodded and forced a fake smile, saying, “I’ll send her in so you can do the honors,” before turning and walking out, slamming the door to the office behind him so hard, the objects on the shelves trembled like they were struck by an earthquake’s vibrations.
Vince stood still, feeling his blood pump harder in his veins as a result of his newfound power. In the past, whenever he was surrounded by his family, he felt so out of control, especially when his mother was around. That was the big reason why he ran away to the city in the first place. But now, thanks to his father’s last act on this earth, Vince was sitting on the throne. He felt almost overwhelmed, his body shaking a little bit as he realized the extent of his new power.
The door opened a moment later, and the woman from before, Fiona, stepped inside. “Hello, sir,” she said politely as she shut the door behind her.
“Do you know who I am?” Vince asked, folding his hands behind his back. His fingers were still trembling a little bit, and he didn’t want to reveal the strange sense of anxiety that he was feeling at the moment.
“Guido told me you’re his brother. Congratulations, by the way, about the job,” Fiona said, a lot more confidently than Vince had expected. She looked directly into his eyes, staring unblinkingly, but her own eyes were calm. Assured. She clearly wasn’t as nervous as he felt right now, trying to get a handle on his new position.