I don’t bother hiding how much I hate these dinners.
Old-school bullshit. All ceremony, no teeth. But they still matter just enough that skipping one would send the wrong message.
So I show up and make sure they remember who owns the table.
The restaurant choice tonight is some place in Red Hook called Mangia. It’s gaudy as hell, decked out like it’s 1972 with red and white checkered tablecloths, black and white photos lining the walls, 70s-style candle holders on the tables. Even the silverware, plates, and glasses scream seventies. The whole place has been reserved for the evening—every low-level shark in the city hanging around the edges, waiting for a crumb of power to fall their way.
I walk in late, Eva on my arm. She’s wearing a deep burgundy dress that hugs every curve just right. Simple, yet elegant. Her chin is up, her eyes steady. I know she’s nervous, but she doesn’t show it. That’s what matters. To everyone here, she’s Eva Smith. That’s the name they will be given. The truth’s a weapon, and I’m not willing to hand it to just anyone.
The room quiets when we enter. Eyes track us as we move—some curious, some hostile. I nod once to anyone I make eye contact with. My hand covers hers and I keep her close.
One of Delucci’s rats scurries over to show us to the main table. I don’t look at him. I don’t need to. I can feel the heat coming off the stares from the Russians. They are too interested in her, and it makes me nervous.
I pull a chair out for her, taking the one beside her. Let them stare. Let them whisper. She’s mine.
When the room settles, I speak. “This is Eva Smith. She’s with me.” My tone is firm and final, leaving no room for confusion; she is my partner.
That gets a few reactions and I analyze all of them. Linda is sitting across the room with her claws dug into Luca’s arm, dressed like she’s auditioning for a mob queen revival. She scowls when I look her way. I don’t break eye contact, and neither does she.
During dinner, I let an old Ricci dinosaur drone on about port delays, but I’m only half-listening, my mind elsewhere. Eva scans the room, sharp as ever. She’s cataloguing faces, noting posture, watching the way the Russians lean in too close. She’s quiet, but she’s not blind.
Linda peels herself off Luca like gum off a shoe, pretending to chat up one of the Russian juniors. But I see her angle. I know the game. She’s aiming straight for me.
Eva steps away for a moment, off to greet someone near the bar.
Linda’s smile is wicked as she appears at my side.
“Dante,” she purrs, batting her fake lashes. “It’s been ages since we’ve spoken. Properly, I mean.” She drapes a hand over my forearm, her nails digging in just enough to irritate.
I level her with a cold stare, lowering my voice so we don’t draw too much attention. “Save it, Linda. We have nothing to talk about.”
She arches a brow, feigning hurt. “Oh, I think we do. I’m just looking out for Luca—the real heir to the Bellacino name. He deserves better than to see his father flaunt some random woman in these circles. You’re humiliating him, Dante.”
I fight the urge to laugh. “Luca’s humiliation is his own doing. Maybe if he spent half the effort working instead of whining about his birthright, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. And need I remind you, his legal name is Patterson. You made certain of that.”
Her face flickers with anger, but she pastes on a saccharine grin, adjusting the fur wrap she’s wearing. “I don’t blame him for being upset. He lost your attention to that… girl. You should remember who truly represents this family—you, me, and Luca. We have history.”
I lean back, crossing my arms. “You don’t represent shit. You are here as a courtesy as Luca’s mother, nothing else. You have no power here or any other place where my family is concerned. You’d do well to remember that, Linda. As a matter of fact, this is the last time I’m going to remind you of it.”
“You’ll regret this. Luca needs his status, and you need a legitimate heir—someone recognized by all the families. Eva can’t give you that, despite the little bastard she has growing inside her.” She cocks her head, a smug curve to her lips.
My fists clench and my nostrils flare at the nerve of her. I glance around, noticing a small cluster of Italian and Russian associates within earshot. Perfect. Let them witness me shutting Linda down once and for all. My voice raises slightly, so they can’t mistake what they’re about to hear.
“I’ve tolerated your bullshit long enough, Linda. You are not a Bellacino matriarch. You are nothing but a gold digger who saw me as an opportunity to manipulate and use for your own personal gain.”
A hush falls over our immediate area. Linda’s cheeks flush red, her eyes flicking nervously to the onlookers. She tries to regain some composure. “Oh, Dante, please, don’t be so dramatic. You know I only speak out of concern.”
“Concern for your own image, maybe,” I retort. “You’re bouncing from conversation to conversation, trying to leech off my name. Let me make this clear for everyone here tonight: Linda Patterson has zero influence in my decisions, personal or otherwise.”
I let my gaze sweep over the small group gathered, ensuring they got the message.
Linda’s face twists, her composure finally cracking. She hisses under her breath, “You bastard. You think humiliating me in front of these people is wise? They may end up wondering why you’re so eager to cling to that girl instead of your real family. What do you think will happen when they start digging a little deeper?”
I scoff. “I’m not humiliating you, Linda. You managed that all on your own. How many times do I need to tell you that you are not my family. You’re Luca’s mother. That’s it. Now get out of my sight.”
She just stands there, mouth agape, eyes wide with shock. The room’s dead quiet for a beat, smirks breaking out among the onlookers. A few of the Russians lean back in their chairs, clearly enjoying the show. Some of the Italians trade glances, whispering just loud enough to be noticed.
Linda looks around, realizing she’s officially lost the room. She storms back to Luca like a woman on fire, whispering something in his ear. He flushes with anger or embarrassment, probably both, refusing to look my way.
Good. I’ve had enough of both of them tonight.
Eva returns from across the room, brows raised as she catches the tail end of Linda’s tantrum.
“What did I miss?” she asks, grabbing her water glass.
“I just put Linda in her place.”
“Oh? Everything all good?”
I shrug. “As good as it’s going to be in a room full of mobsters with grudges.” My hand settles on the small of her back. “Come on. We’ve made the rounds. It’s time to have some fun.”
