Page 10 of Family Secrets

Chapter Four

Gino revved the engine of his new car as he waited for the gates of his father’s estate to open. He hated this house, the illusion of wealth it gave off to anyone who knew of its location and the secrets it held behind the walls. His father used the grandeur of it in an attempt to impress his mother’s family, sadly it worked and his grandfathers went into negotiations in an effort to win his mother’s hand. From the stories Gino’d heard, carefully constructed lies fell from forked tongues on both sides and, in the end, a bargain was struck, a marital match made in hell.

Exiting from the driver’s side, Gino waved off one of his father’s men whose sole purpose was to park cars and open doors, something which made his father feel important. Or maybe it was to impress the various women he took to his bed, something Gino couldn’t relate to, as he had no need to make an impression on any woman.

Entering the massive doors, allegedly made from ancient wood rumored to be from some castle Gino forgot the name of a long fucking time ago, he turned to his left. He bid several of the men standing sentry good morning, making his way to the end of the great hall, as his father called it, not bothering to knock as he’d been warned to do in the past.

Gino wasn’t surprised to find a blonde riding his father’s dick while he sat in his desk chair. He recognized Mitzi, one of Sully’s girls, despite the copious amounts of hair covering her face. Those obnoxious sized tits of hers bouncing like a pair of fucking basketballs. She’d managed to suck the money out of one of the men to pay a back-alley doctor when other more reputable physicians refused.

Unbuttoning his jacket, Gino took a seat as several expletives and the sound of a hand hitting bare skin filled the room. Mitzi was well-versed in how things worked around the Vitale Family, sliding off his father’s lap and out of the room before the sting on her ass subsided.

Jonathan Vitale pulled the condom from his rapidly deflating dick, tossing it in the direction of the trash can, missing it by a mile. His frustration with his eldest son was at a high point due to his continuous disregard for following orders.

“You weren’t at your sister’s party.” Tucking himself back into his pants, the smirk on Gino’s face raising his blood pressure. “Not that I expect you to do anything I tell you, but your Nona noticed.”

Gino kept his face stoic; he’d spoken with his Nona on the plane ride home from Italy. They’d made a friendly wager on how tacky the decorations would be given Antonia’s taste.

“I’ll call her later,” Gino offered indifferently, loving nothing more than having a story to tell Nona of how red his father’s face became during these meetings. Sophia Vitale, much like the majority of the women who married into the Vitale Family, suffered as a result of the poor decision, enduring years of turning a blind eye to the sins of their husbands.

“You’ll go to see her later.” Jonathan pounded his fist on the wood desk, unable to conceal the anger brewing in his chest. He’d no time to deal with Gino’s defiance. He needed him to do as he was told and ask for Felicia Vittorio’s hand in marriage, the Family needed the union and the financial support it would bring. While they weren’t knocking on poverty’s door, they certainly weren’t rolling in free cash like they did when he was much younger. The maintenance costs on the house he surrounded himself were astronomical.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, eyes boring into his son’s. Gino was nothing like his younger brother Sully, his intuition and nose for business was so much greater, even than his own. Which was part of the reason he would take the reins of the Family one day.

“Was your trip successful?”

Mimicking his father’s position, a colorful retort ready to send his father over the edge. “Mom’s great, sends her love.”

“Giovanni!” His father roared, the force of his aggression making the skin of his face turn an odd shade of purple. With Gino’s mission accomplished by the use of his Christian name, something a handful of men have lived to say twice, he righted his position.

Giovanni was his grandfather’s name, a cruel man who demanded Gino—at the age of seven, leave Italy and join his father in the States in order to mold him into the kind of man needed to run the Family. Gino refused at first, digging his heels in hard when he stepped off the plane and into the backseat of his namesake’s car. His grandfather showed little mercy, choosing to strike him anytime he opened his mouth in protest. Gino endured years of hearing how traitorous his mother was for not getting on the plane when his father was escorted out of the country. Yet, for as much as he proclaimed to hate her, his grandfather spent the money she sent for his care. A secret he learned and kept to himself.

“Yes, arrangements have been made. The first shipment will arrive in ten days and we have a buyer willing to meet our asking price.”

According to Gino’s mother, revenge is a meal best served cold, and he was counting on clouded memories courtesy of women like Mitzi to help him dish out healthy portions.

Jonathan raised his arms, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Your twenty-fifth birthday is at the end of the year.”

“And?” Gino shrugged. “You planning my party already? You can keep the clowns and pony rides; I grew out of them before I moved to America.”

“Always the wise-ass,” Jonathan accused, lowering his arms and leaning over the desk in Gino’s direction. “I had two children by the time I was your age.”

“No,” Gino argued, moving the heels of his shoes to the edge of the wooden desk, crossing his feet at the ankles. “You had a son, an illegitimate bastard, a failed marriage and a few broken bones, according to my mother.”

Gino knew the story by heart, the twisted tale of how his grandfather and great-uncle Carmine made a list of eligible women, wealthy enough and with the kind of connections that would benefit them for generations.

Number one on their list was Nicoletta Gallo, a woman so beautiful, Gino’s uncle Saul swore he would drink her piss if it meant he got a shot at seeing her pussy. Too bad another guy slapped a ring on her first. Which left Chiara, a beautiful woman from the Amato Family, who shared the same interests as the Vitale’s. Chiara's father insisted on having the best man possible for his eldest daughter. With Gino’s father being the oldest of the two, the Vitale’s created a man who looked incredible on paper, letters from the family priest—forged, of course—doctored bank records to make them richer than they were, and a clean bill of health, the numerous shots of penicillin wiped away. Women were paid handsomely to speak favorably of Jonathan’s character when the Amato’s came to visit. Fake college diplomas hung on the wall in house boasting an Ivy League education Jonathan never received. Gino’s father did his part, sending gifts to Chiara’s mother and sister, telephone calls with whispers of sweet things, all to make him into this handsome Prince Charming who would one day lead the Family into an unimaginable amount of prosperity and wealth. There was of course one tiny clause, Jonathan needed to prove himself to the elders of the Amato Family. The stipulations were kept secret, but most who knew of the contract had their suspicions.

According to Nona, the wedding between his parents was one of the largest she’d ever attended, complete with a celebration lasting three days. Upon returning from an extended honeymoon, Jonathan told Chiara he needed to return to the States on urgent business, Chiara declined to go with him due to her pregnancy. He stayed in New Jersey for several months, returning to Sicily in time to celebrate Gino’s birth. Jonathan appeared to have satisfied the elder's requirements as a meeting was called between the Family’s. Jonathan walked into the meeting, boasting of baby number two on the way. He expected the same celebration as before, however, the only smiling face in the room was his. Chiara's brother shoved him in a chair, tossing proof of how he’d not only lied about who he was, but of the birth of a second son not six months after Gino. Jonathan was stripped, beaten and placed on a private jet. He was told of the price on his head if he ever returned to Sicily. The Vitale family was forced to pay back the wedding costs, which nearly bankrupted them.

“Your mother likes to play the victim, but I’m not the only one with blood on my hands when it comes to the failure of our marriage.”

After his little sister was born, rumors surfaced of a relationship between Chiara and her bodyguard. Nothing was ever proven, and Jonathan demanded his little girl have his last name.

“But that is the past, what we need now is to unite the Families.”

“You mean succeed where you failed?” Gino argued, his tolerance for hearing this same song and dance long since gone. With the disastrous results of his parent’s relationship, the Vitale’s picked themselves up and began searching for the next generation. The pool to choose from was sadly shallow as the Family most sought after was the Vittorio’s. And since their leader, Emilio, had no children of his own, an agreement was on the table for Gino to marry his niece, Felicia, a woman so vile he’d rather cut off his dick then allow her to touch it.

“Apologize to your Nona, send flowers to Felicia and offer to take her to dinner.”

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