Page 9 of Violent Delights

A woman I’ve crushed on since my senior year in high school will be there. Even though we’ve been fucking around, enjoying our trysts, there’s nothing more to hold onto. She’s focused on her career. Even though I could give her all that and more.

Independence.

It’s a sickness that should be eradicated.

Actually, I don’t believe that.

I quite enjoy her confidence and self-assurance. I’m only jealous because she hasn’t yet submitted to me as a partner. I’m nothing more than a plaything to the woman.

She’s only a couple of years older than me, and yet she acts as if we’re on two vastly different levels. I know her hate for the mafia and the clans. But she’s a part of us no matter how much she tries to ignore that fact.

“It’s pointless,” I tell Gian, who’s also one of my best friends, and Romano. They both glare at me as if I’m speaking another fucking language. “She’s not going to?—”

“Oh please,” Gian retorts hotly. “You’re both in each other’s pants more than I change mine.”

“That’s because you’re a dirty bastard,” I throw back, chuckling when he pins me with a heated glare. “I’m serious, though. She’s hot, but I’m exhausted. I need to focus on the clan, taking over from my father.” Both of their dads work as Capos under mine. They’re not strangers to this life. None of us are.

“A party will take your mind off it for a little while,” Gian suggests. “You don’t have to see anyone you don’t want to.”

“Where’s this party?”

“The Vitale mansion,” Romano informs me and I snap my gaze to his. “I know, I know.” He holds his hands up before I can say a word. He knows they’re my family’s mortal enemies. Those filthy bastards have no right to be in this city. If I could kill them all, I would.

I shake my head. “I’m not walking into their fucking home.” The hatred in my tone is enough to have both my friends staring at me.

In the mafia, family feuds are normal. They’re expected. But with our families, there’s something different. Our domain is being threatened by theirs. It may not have started out that way, but it’s turned into a turf war.

“Come on, if we crash the party, nobody will know,” he says, then a smile brightens his face. He’s always been the troublemaker. At least that’s what my father calls him. Growing up, they were the only two friends I trusted with my life. In our line of work, loyalty comes at a price.

“I suppose we could go,” I say, hoping I’m not making a stupid decision that will only have the Boss in a bad mood. Even though he’s my father, I still have to abide by his rules. And I have to act as if I were already the head of the clan. Even though he still controls everything.

“Exactly,” Gian says.

“The worst they can do is kill us.” Even though Romano chuckles, a deep-seated worry twists in my gut. That is definitely what they can do if they see us, if they realize we’re Montesano.

A family feud that has spanned generations.

You’d think after so many years, people would forget.

But the mafia never does.

“What if…” Gian pushes to his feet, pacing the floor of my office as he taps his finger against his lips. “What if you brought something valuable back from the Vitale mansion for your father?”

He looks like he’s struck the goddamned jackpot with his assumption. I don’t know if my father would even care. But the fact that I had gotten into our enemy’s home and walked out with something that means something to them may prove to him I am worthy.

I have spent my life trying to prove myself. I wanted my father to look at me the same way he looks at the men who work for him. But more than that, I want him to see me as an equal. I’m the next in line to take his throne, and if he saw the potential in me, then he’d finally allow me to step up.

“I suppose it would be good.” I’m still unsure of this, but when both of my friends are on their feet, ready to race out the door, I realize I should just take a breath and enjoy the night. It’s not like I have to kill anyone. At least that’s what I’m hoping for.

You can never be sure that you will walk out of enemy territory alive and well. It’s not a guaranteed outcome. But I have to try. Perhaps it will be fun.

I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. I suppose I’m going out tonight. I can’t go in a suit and tie, so I have to change into something less formal. A party means I can let loose for a short time.

When I was growing up, my father drilled into my head that I needed to be formal at all times. Professional. As a Made Man, you needed to exude power, and you couldn’t do that in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

“Let me change into something more discreet. I don’t want to walk in there looking like a goddamned Underboss. They’ll pick me out within seconds of entering,” I tell them and leave them in my office. It’s not like there’s anything in here that they don’t already know about me. As I make my way up to my bedroom, I ponder how the evening will go.

“Domenico.” My father’s voice distracts me from my thoughts and I turn to find him walking up the stairs. He’s dressed immaculately. “What are your plans for the evening?” It’s as if he knows already. The man is a mind reader. I used to ask him if he was. As a child, I was convinced my father had superpowers. But then I learned better. He was merely a human, a normal being who could read people as most devour books.

---