Page 7 of Bitter Poetry
“He didn’t bring her,” I admit. “She came with someone else.” Usually, I would be excited for any opportunity to catch a glimpse of my father’s consigliere, and the man I will soon be officially betrothed to. But yeah, the swimwear model turned Instagram influencer he is dating turning up has given rise to a heap of ugly feelings.
He brought me a diamond bracelet for my graduation present. When he gave it to me, I wanted to believe it meant something special—I’m wearing it right now.
“She was all over him,” Jessica says with a scowl. “The bitch definitely wants another piece of his pie.”
“Smile please!” the photographer calls.
I plaster on a smile and say under my breath, “You’re not helping.”
“We’ll put laxative in her party punch,” Jessica says with a broad smile for the camera. “That’ll cheer you up.”
I snort a laugh. Then I’m distracted by the gangly figure of a young man wearing a formal suit too big for his frame. Cosmo Gallo, younger brother to my father’s underboss, cuts a path across the lawn, heading toward the house, holding something that looks familiar. “Is that my wrap in Cosmo’s hand?”
I’d left my wrap on the patio chair. A glance back confirms it’s gone.
Why is he taking my wrap inside?
As I watch, he lifts it to his nose and sniffs it before tucking it into his pocket.
“Eww, yuk,” Jessica says. “Yeah, that was your wrap. Like, burn it. Why does Papa even let him attend?”
I don’t have an answer. Every time I have the misfortune to meet Cosmo, he does something that I find disturbing or just plain gross.
“Now, if we could have all the girls together,” the photographer calls.
Another hour later, the photo shoot is over, and we finally join the party.
CHRISTIAN
As parties go, it’s pretty uninspiring, but I suppose the party girl is only seventeen, and a mafia princess—everyone here is well and truly vetted and knows better than to get drunk and rowdy.
The star of the show is talking to her school friends on one side of the room, oblivious to the way every head turns her way. Carmela Accardi is a stunner. I’d nail her in a heartbeat. Not that I’m going to get a shot. Carmela is off the table in all ways and destined to be my brother’s wife.
“Bored out of my fucking mind,” Jero mutters beside me.
Our head enforcer is one of the few guests not looking at Carmela. Instead, he surveys the crowd with his usual watchful intent. Jero wouldn’t normally frequent this type of event, but the party girl is the big boss’s daughter, so no thug is spared to ensure the select crowd doesn’t lose their minds on the alcohol-free champagne being served.
“Tell me about it,” I reply. “Can I have a beer?”
“Wot? Fuck no, you can’t have a beer.” He directs his flat, disapproving glare at me. “You’re underage, mate.”
I consider pointing out that he passed me one from the refrigerator yesterday after we’d put a beating on a sloppydealer. But maybe the highbrow crowd or the fact that we’re supposed to be working has gotten his panties in a bunch.
Ettore is over on the right of me talking to Don Cedro like the good little ass-licker he is. With his overly slicked back dark hair and sharp, black suit, Ettore looks like an extra on The Godfather. In the short time since he became underboss, he’s positioned two of his brothers as capos although I’ve heard they’re doing a shit job.
What can I say? It pays to keep up on the gossip in this game, and I fucking love a bit of juicy gossip.
A dark shape skulking around the edges of the crowd catches my eye. “Who the fuck let Cosmo in?”
Jero grunts, following my line of sight to where Ettore’s youngest brother is doing what he does best: being a creep. He’s in his early twenties, but wearing a suit that looks a size too big with his hair slicked-back like a mini-Ettore playing dress up. I can’t even say exactly what makes him weird. It’s a million and one subtle mannerisms that come together in some creepy planetary alignment.
“Ettore blew a gasket after he found pictures of Carmela on Cosmo’s cell phone. Thought Cosmo’s time might be up,” Jero mutters. His eyes are narrowed, and his entire focus is on Cosmo as he passes through the crowd and out of view. “I told Ettore he should leave the fuckwit at home, but he wanted the whole family here.”
“What the fuck?” Dante’s going to be pissed when he hears about this. “Maybe I should go and have a word with Cosmo? Remind him not to be a dick?”
Jero shrugs. “Be my guest, mate.”
Great! Show time.
