Page 83 of Mafia King
“Belief,” I whisper then kiss him. “It’s people believing you have it. No one thinks I’m powerful.”
“I do.”
“If that’s your final word,” I coo, dropping my cheek onto his chest, “I will accept it.”
“Will you?”
“Lo voglio.” I repeat the words he told God I used at our wedding, when a cry to be free was manipulated intoI will, because the first way to have power of choice is to get your husband to believe you have it.
20
SANTINO
Laser-Topia is more pleasant hours before it opens, when the house lights are on and the exclamation points aren’t flashing. The club is far less excruciating without darkness to cover the patches in the matte black walls and the lights distracting from the stains in the floor. It’s a real place.
Damiano sits on a barstool, nursing an amber liquid, spotting me in the mirror behind the bar. The bartender wipes down glasses with a dingy gray towel. He’s a young, handsome guy with light brown hair and the potential for a gut in ten years.
“Robert,” I say as I slide onto a stool.
“Hey, man. Loretta said to pour you something.”
“San Pellegrino.”
“You got it.” He snaps a green bottle from the fridge and leaves to get ice.
“The little wife not like it when you drink or something?” Damiano says.
I just smile, flicking away a crumb from the bar’s surface.
He knows nothing about the power of wives.
* * *
Damianoand I were like brothers. We loved each other and hated each other. We pulled each other up and dragged each other down. We both knew I was Emilio’s favorite, but we were partners. When we thought he was going to die, we agreed it was too soon for us to try to fill any vacuum he left. When we were ready to have our own territory, we’d run it together.
Those were the rules until the day Emilio gave Rosetta to me.
When Damiano left the room without promising to honor our boss’s wishes, I chased him to the end of the hall. He was getting into a crowded elevator. I stuck my hand in the doors and, after they bounced open, wedged myself next to him.
“Fuck you,” he murmured.
A pretty nurse gave him a look. She was too young to be such a prude, but out of respect for her, I didn’t tell him to go fuck himself.
In the lobby, we went right for a couch in the corner that was bordered by tall, brass ashtrays. I took out a smoke even though I didn’t want it.
“He’s going to live, you know,” I said.
“Yeah. And he’s still giving it all to you.”
“He’s going to be buried with the crown up his ass and you know it.”
Damiano laughed. I laughed. It seemed like it was going to be all right. Nothing had to change.
“You know,” he said. “The last few days? When we all thought he was gonna kick? My dad?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t have to say another word. Cosimo had taken over as if the territory was his birthright, but he would have to relinquish control when Emilio was out of the hospital. He was loyal, but ambitious. A week with a power vacuum was a dangerous time.
