Page 13 of Prince of Vice

"Yeah," I agree, my voice heavy with emotion. "We always felt like he was doing bad for society, and we bore the brunt of it. Still do.”

"Frankie Moretti, the infamous mob lawyer," she muses.

It's a shame, really. Our father grew up in Italy, the son of a construction worker. He had a simple upbringing, but he was always jealous of what other people had. That's what likely led him to representing mobsters—they paid the highest amount.

And when the Italian mob asked him to come over to the USA, he dragged our entire family with him. He went to law school here, got his license, and continued to represent mobsters, despite everyone’s hopes that maybe this would've been a new start for us all.

"New country, same old story," Eve laments. "But Bella, remember, you have the power to change our family's legacy. You can be the one to break the cycle."

I take a deep breath, feeling her words settle on my shoulders. "You're right. I need to focus on winning this case. If I do that I can get us out from under this debt and prove that we're more than just our father's reputation."

"Yes," Eve encourages me. "And who knows? Maybe working on this case will give you insight into how to handle your wayward client.”

"Let's hope so," I say, clinking my glass against the phone in a makeshift toast. "Because I refuse to let him or our family's past define me."

"Cheers to that," she agrees.

"Eve, I'll be honest with you," I admit, as I swirl the wine in my glass, watching the deep red liquid catch the light. "I'm struggling with a lot of self-doubt. I wonder if I can handle this case by myself, but I don't really have the money to bring anyone else in. I don't even know if I would be allowed to bring anyone else into the case. I'm sure the Maldonado’s don't really want their family life shared with too many people."

I take a deep sigh as I admit the feelings deep inside of me. "I'm just worried about whether I'm really smart enough to pull this off. I don't know, maybe Primo is getting to me after all. Or maybe, he's just picking up on something that's already there."

"Don't forget how hard we were pushed academically growing up. That's what's given us both our self-doubt," Eve reminds me gently. "Mom and Dad always expected perfection from us, but that doesn't mean we're not capable of handling big challenges. You're brilliant, Isabella. Don't let Primo intimidate you, no matter how attractive he is." She adds that last sentence with a lighthearted twinkle in her voice.

"Thanks, sis," I say, touched by her words. "I needed to hear that."

"Of course." She pauses for a moment before continuing. "So, tell me about your love life these days. Any other interesting prospects?"

I chuckle at her question. "Not really, and not like I would even have time even if there were. How have you been doing since the divorce?"

"Ah, yes, the great betrayal," she sighs exaggeratedly.

Eve’s history with men was about as bad as mine. She married a guy just after she graduated college. I know she really loved him, but for some reason, his family did not love her. Not one person from his side even showed up to the wedding and she was devastated. Six months later and it came out that he was cheating on her with bridesmaids, a girl that she’d been friends with all through college. He refused to go to counseling and filed for divorce as soon as his affair was discovered.

I don’t think she’ll ever fully trust men again.

“Honestly, I've been enjoying casual dating. Just last night, I spent the evening with a guy who lives in a penthouse with mechanized curtains that open at dawn. Can you believe it?"

"Wow, fancy!" I exclaim, giggling along with her. "We've certainly come a long way from our Catholic upbringing, huh? I remember when we used to be so ashamed of even thinking about having casual sex, or any sex, really.”

"God, yes," Eve laughs. "I'm glad we've broken away from that shame. Life's too short to be guilt-ridden over natural desires."

"Agreed," I say, clinking my glass against the phone again, celebrating our newfound freedom from the constraints of our past.

"By the way, has anyone else tried to approach you?” Eve asks, her voice softening with concern.

"Surprisingly, it's been quiet for a while now. But, you know, I can't shake off that feeling of unease."

My last run-in with a loan shark wasn’t pleasant. I recall how he tried to physically threaten me, his hands gripping my arms tightly, leaving bruises as he reminded me that there would be consequences if debts weren’t paid. I felt lucky to escape with my life that day.

I've received weird text messages and emails from anonymous numbers since then. For the most part I just ignore them, because what else am I supposed to do?

"Hey, maybe working with the mob is a good thing in this case," Eve suggests, trying to lighten the mood. "Once they find out who you're representing, they might be smart enough to leave you alone for good."

"Ha! That would be the day," I chuckle, despite the lingering anxiety that sits in my stomach like a snake.

"Listen, Isabella," Eve says, suddenly serious. "Why don't we plan to get together for lunch soon? I'll be free after three more night shifts, and we can catch up properly, face to face."

"Sounds perfect," I agree, feeling a warm sense of comfort wash over me at the thought of reconnecting with my sister. "It's always nice to have quality time with you."

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