Page 135 of Forgotten Sacrifice
“How do you figure?” The realtor indicated it was a done deal.
“I’m the proud new owner of all the vacant commercial buildings on the island. The building with the most restaurant potential had a bid; sorry to that bidder who lost out.”
I laugh in disbelief. “You play dirty, boss.”
Romeo’s lips quirk into the faintest hint of a smile. “Never said otherwise.”
“Both of you.” I stare Fabio down.
Fabio holds up his hands in surrender.
I turn my attention back to Romeo. “I don’t want to be a frontman; when I say I want a restaurant, I want to be the chef.”
“Can you cook?” Sam asks, a bit surprised.
“Yeah, I’m a damn good cook, but I’d like to get a few months of culinary school under my belt,” I admit.
Romeo waves his hand in dismissal. “You’ll apprentice with Nonna in the kitchen. Take twenty-four hours?—”
“I’ve made my decision.”
“We’re here as a symbolic gesture. Vincenzo ‘Vince’ Rossi has been a member of this family for years, but the circumstances surrounding his sponsorship by Uncle Joseph have left a stain on this family’s history. I would say God rest Uncle Joseph’s soul, but that fucker can burn in hell.”
Amen.
Romeo holds up a picture of Saint Dismas. “We swear by blood on the patron saint of thieves when we join the family. Some say there’s no honor amongst thieves, but I disagree.This family is built on honor, and if Uncle Joseph were here with us, I’d demonstrate that fact by cutting off that sick fucker’s dick. Sadly, he’s not, so this ceremony will have to do. Fabio, do you make a recommendation?”
“Boss, I nominate Vincenzo ‘Vince’ Rossi to rightfully join the Parisi family. He’s been a rock in the family for sixteen years. Our oddsmaker, even when sports betting became legal and the odds were against him. He’s someone I’d be happy to have my back, and I want him to know the family will always have his.”
My good eye becomes blurry, but I fight back the tears.
Swearing the oath, I prick my finger and watch the blood fall onto our patron saint’s image.
Romeo holds the picture in the candle flame. It ignites, and he tosses it in a bowl as it burns to ash. “Welcome to the family.”
Chapter
Fifty
Vince
Nonna silently flips through my recipe book, and for a man who’s faced death countless times, I’ve never been as nervous as I am now. She closes the notebook, pointing at me with her boney finger. “I teach you, but,” she pauses dramatically. “Nobody gets my gravy recipe.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”I’m getting that damn gravy recipe.
“First, I watch you make pasta.”
I dust the counter before creating a mound of flour with a well in the center. Nonna silently watches as I crack the eggs in a bowl and pour them in well, like a little bird’s nest. I begin mixing the dough with my hands until a ball forms.
“Keep kneading,” Nonna orders, and I do as I’m told. “You don’t want the dough too soft, or the pasta won’t be nice andal dentewhen you cook it.”
“How about this?”
Nonna smacks the dough with her hand. “Perfetto. Now,we wait. You chop the herbs. No such thing as too much parsley.”
“I’ll remember that.” I roll a tight bundle and begin chopping.
“Hey, Vince. I hear you’re opening a restaurant.” Valentina joins us.
