My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to catch my breath. Sex with Emma would become better every time we did it. I could already tell. She was eager to learn, and I was willing to teach her. With her little surprise seduction, she’d pulled me out of a dark moment. I would probably have been drunk by now if Emma hadn’t shown up and sucked me off.
Emma stroked my chest, making me relax into the mattress. She cast her eyes up, and I could tell she wanted to talk.
“Did something happen to make you want to look at those photos? Or is it still because of the mother’s outburst in the restaurant?”
“It’s happened many times before. I try to avoid crossing her path, but sometimes it’s difficult. My father and I have to make certain decisions that might mean the death of more young men. They too could die cruelly like my friend Domenico if we decide to take a harder line.”
Guilt squeezed my stomach as it always did when I talked about Domenico, his family, or any of my dead friends.
Emma tilted her head in consideration. “Why do you feel guilty for your friends’ deaths?”
I wasn’t sure how much of the story she knew. I hadn’t talked to many people about what had happened. To Renato because I needed to, to Dante because I had to, to Dad because I wanted to. But the full enormity of that day, especially Dominico’s death, was locked in the deepest corners of my heart.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Maybe, but I want to hear it from you.”
“My best friends died because of me. I led them to their death. My plan was shitty. I should have known I couldn’t attack the Falcone mansion and get out alive. Not with only a handful of people. I would have needed an army, and even then, many people would have died, but I only had one thought: to save my sister. Nothing else mattered. I accepted the risk to my friends’ lives.”
“You wanted to save your twin, that’s understandable, and you asked your friends for help, which is understandable as well. Don’t you think they would have insisted on joining you even if you hadn’t asked them? They were your best friends after all.”
“Probably,” I admitted. “But I asked them and didn’t leave them a choice.”
“They could have said no, Samuel. They could have said they didn’t want to go against their Capo. That way they wouldn’t even have lost face by refusing your request.”
“None of them would have ever said no.”
“Would you have said no if one of them had asked you to save his sister from enemy territory?”
“Of course not,” I said. If Renato would ask me to save someone he cared about, I wouldn’t hesitate. And I wouldn’t have hesitated back then either.
“They knew what they were getting into. They were adults and Made Men. They weren’t ignorant of what it meant to attack the Falcone mansion. Even I know what an attack on the Falcones means. But they chose to risk it for you.”
My heart felt heavy. I still carried that sense of guilt with me. “And they died.”
I squeezed his hand. “Yes. Which was an outcome they had taken into consideration.”
I nodded. I stroked Emma’s hair away from her back and traced a few scars on her back. “For me to forgive myself, I’d need their forgiveness first, but I can’t get it. With every milestone I reach, I’m aware of the milestones they won’t ever experience.”
“They would have forgiven you eventually.”
“What about you? Would you have forgiven the man who was responsible for the accident?”
Emma’s brows puckered, but eventually, she nodded. “I have forgiven him.”
I couldn’t understand how she could be so forgiving. Maybe it came with being a Made Man, but forgiveness didn’t cross my mind when I heard Emma’s story.
“Because he paid the ultimate price?”
“Even if my family hadn’t killed him, I would have eventually forgiven him. What he did was wrong, but he didn’t mean to hurt me. Nothing of what happened was his intention. It happened. I didn’t want his death, but nobody asked me. He was already dead when I woke from my coma. Danilo killed him before I could forgive him.”
I doubted that was all that Danilo did, just kill him. Knowing him, he’d probably made him suffer before. I would have done the same if someone had hurt Sofia or Fina like that. Fuck, I wanted nothing more than to hurt Remo like that and then kill him.
“You lost a lot because he drank and drove,” I said merely. Remembering how I’d drank and drove today, and how I’d even done the same with Emma in a car with me, I wondered how Emma had felt. While I hadn’t felt intoxicated, I knew that accidents were more likely to happen.
“I lost something, yes, but my life isn’t less because of it. It’s different. And I would have wanted him to get punished, but I would have forgiven him if he’d asked for forgiveness.” She paused. “But this is still different from your case. I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t even know he was drunk. But your friends went into the mission knowing the risks.”
I knew Emma was right. Sometimes I got close to making peace with myself. Emma pushed herself up and kissed me lightly. “You should forgive yourself.”
“I’ll consider it,” I said ironically.
“Maybe we can go to their graves together? If you share the burden of your guilt and grief, maybe it’ll be easier to let go.”
My first instinct was to say no. I preferred to be alone at their graves. Renato was the only person I could tolerate there on occasion. But I actually liked the idea of having Emma’s calming presence with me one day. Maybe not yet. We still weren’t there yet, but she was definitely a person who I could imagine allowing this. “I’ll consider it.”
Emma snuggled closer to me, and I could sense her contentment. She wanted to help me to defeat my demons, and she was happy that I finally allowed her to try.
I fell asleep in Samuel’s arms and didn’t wake until morning. When I did, Samuel was still in bed with me. I smiled and rolled closer to him. I was fairly sure Samuel would have spent the night in his office getting drunk if I hadn’t taken the initiative. It had taken all my courage, but I was pleased with the outcome. Not only had the sex been amazing but Samuel had finally opened up to me as well.
Fifteen minutes later, Samuel was under the shower, and I checked my messages. Ines had written late last night, letting me know that the priest had invited me to visit the community center where today’s meetings were held. I was excited about the prospect of finally helping Made Men who struggled with their disabilities. It was rare for men like that to accept help at all.
I got out of bed, and after a moment of hesitation, I slipped into the bathroom. Samuel had left the door ajar, so I assumed he didn’t mind me being in the bathroom while he showered. My eyes were drawn to the shower, where Samuel rinsed off the shower gel from his body. His eyes met mine as he washed his half-erect cock and abs. Swallowing, I moved to the sink and brushed my teeth. I was supposed to be at the community center by ten. That wouldn’t happen if I got sidetracked by having sex with Samuel.
Samuel stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.
“I’m going to meet our priest today to discuss how I can help the Made Men with disabilities.”
Samuel nodded, but I got a little distracted by the droplets of water rivuleting down his chest. “Leo will take you there. I bought a Mercedes Vito and had it modified so you can enter the back with your wheelchair. That way, you won’t have to rely on him to help you into the car.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “You did?”
He nodded as if this wasn’t a big deal. “You like your independence, and this will make traveling by car far more comfortable for you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, wheeling over to him and touching his hand on the counter.
He gave me a small smile.
“Regarding Leo… I’m not sure if his presence at the meetings will always be helpful. Some Made Men won’t feel comfortable to share their struggles when he’s around. They’ll put up a tough front.”
Samuel shook his head, his expression resolute. “I want him with you at all times, Emma. I need to know you’re protected.”
I nodded reluctantly. Samuel glanced at his watch. “I need to leave. There’s a meeting with our Captains.”
He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before he headed out.
I got dressed, then let Leo drive me to the community center, a small flat-roofed building beside the main Catholic church of the Outfit in the city.
Priest Agnellus waited in front of the building, easily recognizable by his cassock. He was bald but not as old as I’d suspected, maybe in his late thirties. I wondered how he lived with the confessions of the Made Men. Leo opened the trunk for me so I could slide back out.
Priest Agnellus met me halfway and shook my hand. “Mrs. Mione, Geno and I are very honored about your interest in our project.”
“I think it’s very important to offer mental support to Made Men and their families who are affected by a disability.”
Leo trailed us as the priest led me up the ramp into the community center. In its center was a big round table with a dozen chairs around them. A TV screen was bolted to one wall with two wide sofas in front of it. Horse racing and a boxing match with the betting quotes showed on the screen, but the sound was off. A pool table and darts were additional entertainment.
“Bets are Geno’s and my sin,” Priest Agnellus said with an embarrassed laugh.
“Bets aren’t Geno’s only sin,” Leo said with a rough laugh. I slanted him a look, but he didn’t elaborate.
“I’m a Made Man, Leo. My sins are various,” a deep male voice said from the doorway to what I assumed was a kitchen, judging by the microwave and coffee maker I spotted behind him when I turned. He was a tall and broad man, perhaps in his late twenties. He looked a little rugged with a short beard and disheveled brown hair.
He came toward us with a thermos in one hand and four mugs dangling by their handles from his other. His gait was the slightest bit uneven as if one of his legs was shorter than the other. He set down everything on the table before he tilted his head in greeting. “Mrs. Mione. We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Leo gave him a harsh look, then pulled up a chair at the table and sat down. He obviously had no intention of giving us privacy. I didn’t want to discuss the matter in front of the two other men. Later, there would be time to ask him for a little distance.
“It’s Emma,” I said with a small smile up at Geno. “The same goes for you, Priest Agnellus. And I assume everything you heard was positive.” I made a face that clearly showed I knew that wasn’t the case.
Geno removed one of the chairs so I could slide closer to the table, and I did. “I don’t have to tell you how our world sees us.”
Geno sank down to my left but with a chair between us. Priest Agnellus took the seat across from us.
I wondered what exactly Geno’s disability was, as it wasn’t immediately apparent.
Geno pulled up his jeans leg, revealing a prosthesis up to his thigh. The knee prosthesis gleamed in the halogen lights above our heads, but the rest was black. “I got trapped under debris after the Camorra blew up one of our nightclubs five years ago. Lost a leg and hearing in my left ear.”
“And you decided to help others with disabilities?” I asked.
Geno lifted a mug with a questioning expression.
“Yes, please.”
He poured the steaming hot black coffee into my mug, then handed it to me. “For almost two years now. During the first three years, Priest Agnellus helped me.”
“He’s still a Made Man. Has been back to work for a year now.”
Geno narrowed his eyes at Leo. “For eighteen months. But I was a Made Man before that too. All the men who we help are still Made Men, even if they aren’t active. The only way to leave the Outfit is by death or betrayal.”
Leo shrugged. “Of course.”
I glanced between the two, sensing a certain dislike.
“What do you do for the Outfit?”
Geno regarded me carefully. “I’m one of your husband’s and father-in-law’s enforcers.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised that he showed kindness by helping other Made Men with disabilities but, at the same time, tortured people.
“You atone for your sins,” the priest said.
Doubt filled Geno’s face, but he didn’t voice it.
“How do you usually help? And what can I do?”
“We have an open meeting twice a week. We also do house visits for those who don’t feel well enough to venture out,” Priest Agnellus said.
“How many come to the meetings?”
Geno took a sip from his coffee and shrugged. “The outcome depends. Sometimes we’re only a handful. Sometimes almost two dozen.”
“I’d love to be part of a meeting one day if the others don’t mind.”
“Actually,” Priest Agnellus looked caught as he exchanged a look with Geno.
“We have a meeting in fifteen minutes. We were hoping to attract many with your presence.”
Leo glowered. “You should have made me aware beforehand. More people means we need additional protection.”
Geno pulled back the leather jacket he was wearing, revealing two glocks. “I’m capable of defending her too, but I can assure you that the men coming here today have enough problems. They don’t need the prospect of a brutal death at Samuel’s hand.”
“Maybe they’re hoping for a bullet to the head from me to end their misery. Suicide is still sin,” Leo growled.
I slammed my hand on the table, surprising myself and the men beside me. My eyes were wide in shock over my outburst, but I narrowed them at Leo. “I appreciate your concern, but that was a very cruel thing to say. I can assure you my life isn’t miserable, and neither is theirs.”
“I’m sorry, but your situation is very different. Many Made Men don’t see themselves as men once they aren’t active,” Leo said, tilting his head in apology.
Geno leaned back in his chair with a dark look. “He’s right. The suicide rate for Made Men with grave disabilities is high. Nothing’s worse than being regarded as half a man or a burden.”
I pressed my lips together, trying to argue, but I knew he was only stating facts. “I hope I can change how some men see themselves.”
“I do too,” Geno said honestly. He nodded toward the front door. “Here comes one of them.”
Leo got up, causing Geno to let out an amused snort.
A tall teenage boy entered the center with a muscled man in his forties. They looked like father and son. My first instinct was to look at the older man, but his demeanor was too confident as if he thought this was a waste of time. My gaze settled on the tall, dark blond boy.
The father nudged the boy’s shoulder hard, so he looked up at him, then he spoke very slowly and clearly. “I won’t have time to pick you up. Take a taxi.” The boy gave a terse nod, then his eyes darted to us.
“Fiorentino, fifteen. Born deaf. His father is Captain.”
I had gathered that the boy was hard of hearing, but I wondered why the father didn’t sign with him. Both strode toward me after the father gave a nod toward Leo.
“Mrs. Mione,” the father said with a small bow of his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded toward his son. “This is my son, Fiorentino. He can’t hear.”
I smiled at both of them, then began to sign to the boy. His eyes keenly followed my hands. He definitely knew how to read sign language. But he didn’t reply, only glanced at his father. “I don’t like it when he signs. It makes him look like an imbecile.”
“That’s a very rude name to call your son. It’s just a form of communication.”
He gave me a tight smile that made it clear he didn’t agree.
“You can’t sign?” I inquired after a moment of strained silence.
“No,” he clipped. He glanced at his watch. “I need to leave.” He leveled his gaze on his son. “Act as if you were a Made Man. Don’t embarrass me.”
The boy nodded again. He didn’t relax until his father was outside.
“You aren’t a Made Man yet?” I signed and said for Geno’s and the priest’s benefit.
The boy looked at Geno, who nodded.
“My father doesn’t want me to become a Made Man because I’m not of value to the cause.”
I frowned. “That’s horrible.”
“Fiorentino has five younger sisters, and his mother is pregnant with the sixth,” Geno said.
“To produce an heir who can become Captain?”
Fiorentino nodded, his expression shut off. He regarded me with the hope that I could help him. But what could I possibly do? By now, more men were filing in, all of them older than Fiorentino, some old enough to be my grandfather. I greeted them all, and eventually, they settled on the chairs around the table or took a seat in front of the TV. Five men were wheelchair users. Others had lost their sight, their arms or hands, foot or leg, and one had obviously suffered a serious injury to his head judging by the scar that ran across his skull.
I talked to a few who seemed open to a conversation and eventually stopped by Fiorentino’s side, who was talking to Geno. They weren’t signing, and I noticed that the boy had put in hearing aids. When I stopped beside them, they fell silent. “Should we sign, or would you like to continue like this?”
“I’m not very good at signing,” Geno said with an embarrassed smile.
“Oh. All right. Should I sign and talk?” I asked Fiorentino.
He shook his head. “Just talk. I can hear you if you don’t talk too quietly.”
“Why didn’t you wear the hearing aid before? You wouldn’t have to read your father’s lips if you did.”
“My father sees it as a sign of weakness. He doesn’t want me to wear it in public. He prefers me to be silent and invisible.”
I had to stifle a rude comment about his father. “Because your speech is slightly impaired?”
Fiorentino gave a tense nod.
“He should be proud of you,” I said finally.
“Fiorentino wants to become a Made Man,” Geno said.
“Have you talked to my husband or father-in-law?”
Fiorentino shook his head. “My father would see it as a betrayal. He doesn’t want me to become a Made Man because I can’t do anything.”
I scanned the boy. He was tall, and he looked fit.
“I taught him how to fight. I still do. His father is okay with that so he can protect himself.”
“I could talk to my husband. Is there anything you’re particularly good at?”
“I’m good with computers. Hacking, coding, security systems.”
“That sounds promising,” I said, then fixed him with a stern look. “Are you sure you want to become a Made Man? Right now, you’re free.”
Fiorentino’s expression turned fierce. “I want to be part of the Outfit, nothing else.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you.”
