Me, however? I’ll be lucky if I make captain.
Dad was just a foot soldier before he died, so no one expects too much out of me or thinks I will be able to amount to more than him, although my increasing height and size seem to make me stand out a little bit more from the pack. If I didn’t have this stupid face, maybe the elders would look at me differently, too. A few scars wouldn’t hurt, and I’m bound to get some sooner or later with all the fights I seem to get into. Neither Gio nor Vince likes to get their hands dirty, but I’m just fine with it. First time I knocked a tenth-grader on his ass was the best day of my life. Well, that and when Selene kissed my cheek on my birthday this summer.
Yeah, maybe that was the best day.
“Dom,” Gio whispers to grab my attention, and I see him run to a huge rock, large enough to hide us and still close enough to the action. I follow him, with Selene close to my side, and thank the heavens for the cloaking sanctuary.
Perfect.
The ground is full of little rocks, autumn leaves, and soot, and if Selene crouches down any further, she’s going to get her pretty little dress dirtier than it is now. I take off my jacket and place it on the ground next to her. She looks up at me gratefully, giving my hand a little squeeze, and kneels behind the boulder. My chest tightens again, and I scowl at not being able to keep my cool around her.
“It’s starting,” Gio whispers, bringing me back to the here and now.
“What is?” Selene hushes back, peaking over the large rock to get a better look at what’s about to go down. Thank God it’s already dark. Otherwise, her vibrant red hair would be a dead giveaway to our location.
“Just watch, principessa. But whatever you do, don’t make a sound,” Gio replies, his eyes lifting up to mine in warning.
I put my arm over Selene’s shoulder. She takes this as a comforting gesture and leans further into me. I wish I were that selfless. I just want to make sure that if she gets scared, I’m close enough to wrap my hand over her mouth before she has time to do something stupid, like scream.
Once the men start gathering outside the cabin’s front yard, my thoughts are no longer on Selene’s sweet flowery smell, but on the destiny that awaits me. A whole new and different excitement starts bubbling in my stomach when I see Salvatore Romano make his big entrance with Vincent and Pietro at his back.
Vince’s face looks blank as an untouched canvas, but an hour ago, I could tell how anxious he was for this event. I mean, it is unheard of for someone who isn’t made to attend in the first place, but Pietro must have put his foot down for his cousin to be present tonight. Might as well, I guess, since Vince will probably witness all of Pietro’s future illicit endeavors in the family anyway. This is just the first sign of what Vincent’s future will look like once Salvatore steps down and Pietro takes the reins of the syndicate. Both are grooming Vince to be his right hand—Pietro’s consigliere when he becomes boss—and I, for one, cannot wait until the new leadership change occurs. Having Vince present is just Pietro’s way of telling his father’s men who he trusts above all.
“Gentleman, gentleman, let’s begin, shall we? I fear if we take much longer our women will tear us a new one,” Big Sal jokes, making all his capos laugh in agreement. His smile is so wide it looks like it might split his face in half.
That’s the thing about Big Sal; if you took one look at him, you would never imagine him to be the boss of the biggest crime family in all of the Midwest. He always seems so good-natured and well-tempered; never shy at hiding his humor or his huge grins. Not exactly what you’d expect from a boss, but I know damn well he’s as ruthless and deadly as they come, and I doubt any man present can argue the contrary.
I might not be in the know yet of syndicate business, but my father’s untimely demise is proof enough that Salvatore Romano has no problem shedding blood when the action calls for it—despite carrying his grandiose grin as if nothing ever affects him. Dad’s gambling addiction equated to sticky fingers, and Big Sal didn’t appreciate his lack of loyalty. After the boss was through with him, we couldn’t even give my father an open casket wake since all his bits were nicely chopped off, inch by inch, for every little dollar he stole from the Outfit.
Any other son would hate Romano and the syndicate for taking his father away from him, but his death was my family’s windfall. When Dad was alive we barely had food on the table, and Mom worked tirelessly to the bone, just so the asshole could steal her every last penny, gambling her earnings away on some horse or poker game. But once Pop was cold in the ground, Big Sal made sure our family was cared for and looked after. Not once did I go to bed hungry afterward.
“A son should not carry the penitence of his father,” he explained to my mother, making her weep in gratitude, and making me yearn to bring back pride to the Mancini name—if only to please the man who gave my mother and me a better life, instead of seeking retribution for the father who should have given it to us in the first place.
“It isn’t a surprise to anyone that I have waited impatiently for this day since Pietro was born,” Salvatore starts, and every capo nods and mumbles in agreement. They are all gathered around Big Sal and Pietro in a full-fledged circle, while Vince stays silent at the back with Salvatore’s bodyguards against the cabin’s wall.
“Every man wishes for an heir to his kingdom, and in Pietro, I have mine. Today commences his journey into our family. Although, we all know that in my son’s case, he began sooner than many made men here today. Since he opened his eyes, Pietro has known nothing but this life and has shown, at the tender age of eleven, that he was born to fill my shoes with grace and honor. Tonight, we are only cementing this fact and welcoming him into the fold.”
I send Gio a scathing look and hope Selene didn’t pick up on what Big Sal meant by Pietro’s demonstration of being cut out to be a made man by eleven. Gio doesn’t even give my scorned glare one iota, as he’s too enthralled with the scene just a few feet away. When I look back into the circle, I understand why.
“DeLuca, if you please?” Salvatore adds, taking a step back while giving Gio’s dad the floor.
Without saying a word, Carmine DeLuca instructs Pietro to follow him dead center of the circle of made men and stops right next to a small wooden table. Slowly, he shows every man present a gun and a knife, and then places both on the table. He then takes out from his breast pocket what looks to be some sort of card. It looks strangely similar to the ones my mom usually keeps tucked inside the pages of her bible. DeLuca then faces Vincent’s cousin once more, his stern expression just as no-nonsense as I know him to be.
“Pietro Romano, you are here today to be baptized into your new family, under God, and in the presence of your new brothers. You have shown your worthiness throughout your life that the Outfit and its rules are in your blood. Today, you will vow and give the oath to your new family that you will maintain and uphold these rules as long as there is breath in you and blood running through your veins.”
Gio’s father lifts the knife from the table first and grabs Pietro’s offered wrist. Carmine then slashes Pietro’s palm in one fast swipe. I only know he’s cut when I see the blood fall to the ground, with Pietro holding his hand out in a fist so everyone can watch.