Page 132 of Dark Alliance
All the local Italian mob families refer to this establishment as neutral territory. Personally, I like to think they chose the location for the homemade gnocchi.
I readied myself for a fight. While I know three of the families support my leadership of the Riccis, I didn’t get a read on the Rossis or Nordis at the funeral yesterday.
I spent an extra thirty minutes in the bathroom this morning, going over how I planned on pleading my case. I’m not used to sharing a bedroom with a man, and when Connor knocked to ask if I was okay, I nearly tripped.
How embarrassing. I tried to tell him I was just prepping for the meeting, but I heard him chuckle as he walked away.
Lots of changes.
With cappuccinos all around, I begin. “Thank you all for welcoming me. I want to open the floor to questions. I don’t expect anyone to trust that I can slip into such big shoes and fill them?—”
“Caterina?” James Rossi stops me, his gruff voice drawing the attention of the room without much effort. Short, fit, and about fifty, he’s the boss of the Rossi family. He runs a hand through his slicked-back hair. “You’ve been managing your father’s books since you were how old?”
“Sixteen.” A prickle of nerves climbs my spine. When I utter the age aloud, the number sounds so young.
“For a whole decade now.” He gestures to the rest of the table. “I can’t speak for anyone else, but you’ve given me no reason to think you can’t handle this…promotion. Your integrity has always been intact. Just like Eduardo’s.”
Fritz Leone raises his cappuccino. “Here, here.”
Fritz has headed the Leones for four decades, but no one would ever guess the man’s in his seventies. He’s a genuine silver fox with a Dean Martin vibe, perma-grin, and a tall, slim form.
Everyone joins him in the toast.
I exhale, a weight lifting off my soul. “Thank you. I won’t let you down. If I may, despite the success yesterday, we barely put a dent in the Roguilin operation, and I’m concerned for our families.”
The other heads listen intently as I explain what’s been happening with the Bratva since Nino opened the door to them.
Afterward, they thank us, including Connor, for avoiding a near-suicidal pact with the Bratva that would’ve relinquished our hold on the city. In addition to crippling the Gallaghers by cutting them off from Blue Hook Port, the agreement also would compromised every Italian family in New York City. They see it as clearly as we do. As my father did.
I sense his presence as Connor and I spearhead a compromise that all six Italian families and both sets of Gallaghers can live with.
“We must work together to prevent the Russian takeover…”
“All other feuds must take a back seat…”
Everyone agrees that survival takes priority.
Connor calls Finn, who arrives before lunch. By mid-afternoon, we broker a deal each family can live with.
We emerge from Viggo’s Ristorante together, our bellies full of gnocchi and our hearts bonded by fire.
Outside the restaurant, Danny pulls up in the Cayenne. Before we get in, though, Connor drops to a knee.
My heart stops in my chest. I suck in air, my lungs shallow and my head fuzzy.
Is this real?
Am I dreaming?
People bustle on the busy sidewalk. Rush hour is in full swing, but with Connor kneeling before me, I feel like we’re the only two people in the world.
The other pedestrians, the bare tree, the traffic, all blur in my periphery.
I only have eyes for my tall, sexy man with the surfer dude hair.
He withdraws a box and opens the lid to display the Bonasera diamond. My breath catches in my throat.
“Caterina Lucia Ricci, will you marry me?”
