Page 74 of His Vicious Vow

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Page 74 of His Vicious Vow

“Fun,” he says it as if he were tasting it for the first time. “I can’t remember the last time I had it. I would say more of a stress reliever is what I’ve done in my limited free time for the last five years or so,” he meets my eyes. I understand instantly—sex was his fun.

Seeing I get it he shrugs. “Since my father died and I became Luca’s second fun is only something I do when Bianca pushed me to take time with her. With her busy getting her degree it wasn’t often. Vegas is a twenty-four city, becoming Luca’s second I was on when he was off and there were just as many times we overlapped out of necessity. This isn’t a set it and forget it kind of city. While the property I ran in old Vegas is smaller all that meant is I had more time to handle the things Luca shouldn’t or trusted me to do for him.”

I’m going to hell for being glad he hasn’t been having fun or happy since we got back because if I’ve been miserable so should he. But I’m also sad. For a few months okay but for five years? I ache at how it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “But you had fun before, right? Like do you have a favorite movie or book or television show? You knew about Sailor Moon…”

“When I was younger, yes of course. I grew up when anime first really hit America. I watched it all and read a few manga. However, my father discouraged it. If it meant me not watching anime he’d even sit down and watch the show about two brothers committed to the family business of saving people and hunting things. That’s my favorite television show. I want to say because it’s a good show but I think it’s more about spending time with my father when it wasn’t about him teaching me about our own family business. As far as books I didn’t read much. Luca pushed on me stuff from guys like Zeno, Marcus Aurelius, and Seneca so I read them and understood how Luca thought because of them. Favorite movie depends on the day and my mood. Movies were the one thing I could watch without my dad having an opinion on.”

Odd how our childhoods were the same that way. “The only time my mom spent more than five minutes with me before Nonna died she spent four of those minutes telling me I needed to knock it off with all the of it. Since the words that came out of her were so clearly Carlo’s, I ignored them. Your dad didn’t let you be anything but Italian either?”

His nod is slow. “Insulation from anything that isn’t mafia is how we stay a family in every sense of the word. My father loved my mother very much but I think he loved her in spite of being half-Filipino. And sometimes I wonder if he would have fallen for her if he had known. As half with a very pasty blond hair, blue-eyed father no one could tell my mother was half-anything. Your grandmother really did raise you, no help from your mom at all.”

Is it a question? I nod. “We were woken by my mom. She got us up and fed for breakfast, took us to school, and we went home to my nonna’s house where we fell asleep. Even in the summer we were there. Pretty much the only time we spent with my mom was when we had to play happy family at la familia events. It was nonna who protected us from Carlo, my mom never did. Carlo would tell nonna to put us on a diet we were too fat and nonna would tell him to fuck off. My mom would do it. She denied the part of her that wasn’t white because he wanted her to. Will we do that with our kids?”

“No. The last thing I want is for our kids to wish they were anything but who they are. Especially when it’s something they have no control over.” His firm immediate answer allows me to sigh with relief.

“Even if they’re…gay?” This is the question plaguing me for since I found out I was pregnant.

“Even if they’re gay. I do believe people have no control over their sexuality. There will be no shaming or tossing them out. However, you do understand being gay in the mafia is a death sentence. If it’s one of our daughters there will not be an issue. I don’t give a shit if I have to listen to people insult her to me, which will happen. What will piss me off is there won’t be anything I can do about it the way I could if they insulted her for something else. Since gay is abhorrent within the mafia I would be refused if I sought permission and discipline up to and maybe death if I acted without it. As far as our son, if we have one, his options are going to be limited. None of them will be fair to him. And I’ll support him whatever he chooses to do.” He assures me.

“What are the options?” I haven’t gotten that far in my fear.

“To do the same thing all the other gay men in the mafia do: live a lie with a woman.” He sees my shock. “You don’t really believe out of how many there are in the mafia we don’t have a single gay man, do you?”

I shrug. “I haven’t thought of it. Carlo is always so adamant gay men don’t exist in the mafia.”

His exhale of air is almost a laugh but not really. “They exist. They’re smart enough they ensure no one knows—not even their wives.”

“How sad for the both of them. What’s the other choice?”

He nods. “Their safety means they would need to get as far from us and the mafia as they can get. If they stay here in Vegas or even close enough to touch, their life would be in danger. I’ll always support them whatever they choose to do.”

I believe him. He’s saying what I knew when he told me why he wanted me pregnant: Sandro will protect and love our children in the way they deserve. “I’m relieved.”

“Good, now come on. Let me get you to bed. You look like you’re about to fall over any minute.”

We’re almost to the elevator when his phone rings. He pauses to check it. His frown is immediate. “One moment, maybe it isn’t necessary for me to leave to see to it.”

I’m hopeful but in seconds it’s clear he won’t be coming upstairs anytime soon.

Ending the call he sighs. “I need to go.”

“I understand. Um, what time tomorrow for the walk?” I ask as I step into the elevator.

“Noon, if that suits you.”

“Yes, I’ll be up.” The doors close and I fight not to sag against the wall.

* * *

Sandro

Entering my office I’m surprised to find not only Gaetano but Bianca. She hasn’t spoken to me since the night I told her to leave. I’ve called her but she wouldn’t answer or return my calls. I sent a text telling her I’d be here when she was ready as long as she respected my wife.

The moment I see them I know what couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I shake my head as my eyes meet Gaetano’s. “You bastard.”

His jaw goes tight. Bianca’s grips his hand to pull him beside her. “Please don’t.”

“She’s right Gaetano. Don’t. You have done more than enough.”




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