From Son to Soldier (Vicci Crime Family Series Book 1) Page 2

  It felt as if I had been gone for years, not months, but I fulfilled my obligations to the family, and I was ready to step back into my quiet life in Virginia. I was just moments away from boarding a jet when I saw it—the black Cadillac SUV barreling towards me on the tarmac. I didn’t have to wonder who it was—I knew. I felt it in my bones, and sure enough, when it came to a stop, Francis Bresciani stepped out from the back seat. Francis was my father's Underboss.

  “Angelo, my boy,” he called out to me. “We need to talk.”

  “Francis, can this wait? I’m heading home.”

  “No, son, this cannot wait.”

  He flung his hand at the pilot waiting in the doorway to the plane. When the pilot didn’t move, he yelled to him.

  “You are not needed! Go do something else!”

  Francis dropped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me with him as he walked back to the vehicle. One of the men jumped out and opened the door for the two us. I climbed into the back seat and slid over, making room for the Boss.

  “Out,” he demanded of the two in the front seat. “Go have a smoke.”

  That meant whatever Francis had to say, he didn’t want anyone else to hear. I have known Francis since I was a kid. He’d been a Capo for my father for over twenty years, and he was there when I made my bones. If he had something he wanted to say to me in private, that meant it had to do with my dad.

  “Mietitore,”

  Rarely did anyone call me The Reaper these days. Even my father stopped using the name when he’d come to realize that my future lay with Bethany and Peanut in Virginia. My days of being judge, jury, and executioner ended that day.

  “Your father is not well. No one is aware of this but he and I, and now you. It’s time you came back home. I’ll need you; this family will need you when the time comes.”

  I shook my head as I spoke. “With all respect, Francis, I can’t be the family’s killer again. That isn’t my life anymore.”

  “And yet here you are, my boy. Stepping in to save that louse Romano.”

  “That was a favor out of respect for Lillian. She is my sister-in-law now, and neither my father nor I wanted her to grieve the loss of her aunt’s only boy.” I thought back to the last conversation I had with my father. “My father has not mentioned that he is in poor health. Does he know that you are asking this of me?”

  My father's number one reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigar. Placing the stogie between his lips, he puffed on it a few times as the flame lit the end.

  “He does not. Nor did he want you to know about his health. But I have the best interest of the family in mind, and I feel you need to remember who you are—the vow you took to put this life before your own.”

  “Again, Francis, this is not my life anymore. I surrendered my place at the table years ago. My father came to terms with it, and now I’m asking you to do so as well.”

  “Your oath should be to follow your father to the end. Protect the family. You cannot deny your future any longer.”

  “I can, and I will. I’ll concede to moving back to New York if necessary to be close to my father if he needs me. But I will not be involved in family business unless it knocks on my doorstep and threatens those I love. I’m asking you to respect this, Francis.”

  The older man nodded. “For now, son, for now.” He leaned over and kissed each of my cheeks. “Go, travel safely.”

  I reached for the door handle and then paused. “I won’t tell my father that you defied his confidence. His health will be his to tell me, but thank you, Francis, for letting me know.”

  I stepped out and closed the door behind me. The two men I didn’t recognize climbed back into the cab, and the SUV sped away. As I made my way towards the jet, climbed the stairs, and took my seat, I sent a quick text to my woman.

  Angelo: I’m coming home, baby. See you soon.

  Chapter Four

  Bethany

  I couldn’t believe the text. Angelo was coming home, and now that reality set in, I wasn’t so sure how I felt about that. I’d missed him while he’d been away, but I worried more. Always wondering if the next call would be from Anthony telling me his son was dead. How did the women live like this? Moreover, was this the life I wanted?

  I was head over heels in love with Angelo, my protector. My lover. My friend. I overlooked so many things back then. As fast as the violence happened, it was over, and then it was gone permanently from our lives. Angelo walked away from the family to build a life with us; I never expected he’d be pulled back in. Was I as naïve as Lillian claimed when she lectured me last week?

  “You have to make a choice,” she demanded. “You either love the man, or you don’t. There is no in between, Bethany. He’s never going to be free from his obligations. And God forbid when Anthony passes, he’ll become the patriarch of the family. Everyone will come to him to solve their problems. How could you be so naïve to think anything differently?”

  “I don’t know what I thought,” I told her.

  “I’ve loved Angelo since I was a little girl. Differently now then back then, but if anything were to happen to him, I’d be devastated. Lincoln knows this. He also welcomed my past and my family when we took our vows. If you can’t be all in, Bethany, then you need to tell him, and you need to walk away.”

  “It would destroy him.”

  “Probably, but I’ll be here to pick up the pieces, and in time, he’ll move on. He’ll resume his place with the family, and eventually, he’ll either go to jail or end up dead. Those are his realities without you.” Lillian tilted her head slightly and gave me a quizzical look. “Why do you think the women-to-men ratio at your wedding was so high? Death and jail.”

  “Those are my choices? Be married to a man who will eventually end up incarcerated or dead?”

  “Stop being so melodramatic, Bethany. What I’m saying is, Angelo has Anthony’s blessing to live a normal—well, as normal as can be—life with you. He’s embraced that his son won’t be his successor, and he’s done everything possible to keep Angelo out of the daily operations. But it won’t always be that way. You want to spend more time with Angelo and avoid not seeing him from time to time. Move, find a home in the city and be as normal as you can.”

  I thought about what Lillian had said. But could it be that simple? Could I live there? Would I still love Angelo if his life involved family business again? Was I ready to be the wife of a mobster?

  “I want to shelter Peanut from all of that. Won’t living there only bring it to the forefront? And more importantly, without a job working for Lincoln, wouldn’t he be forced to work for his father?

  “Who said anything about not working for Lincoln? He can do his job from Manhattan just as easily as he can from Virginia. And before you say it, it’s only a forty-minute commute via the 278 and 478. Or that Peanut needs a yard he can play in; he can have that there too.”

  Lillian’s phone rang, and she silenced it. “That’s my cue that it’s time for me to go. I’m sure little Angelo wants his mommy. I suggest you think long and hard, and make up your mind before Ange gets back.”

  It’d been a week, and I still didn’t have the answers. I’d spent sleepless nights trying to envision a life with Angelo, and I couldn’t see it. There was nothing. I didn’t see us with gray hair and grandchildren in this house, or any house for that matter. My uncertainty kept me from seeing our future, and I hated myself for it. One thing was for sure: even though I loved Angelo with all my heart, if my mind couldn’t embrace us, was my heart enough to hold us together? And I wasn’t sure I could say yes to that. Maybe it was time to start thinking about the alternative, a life without Angelo.

  The chime sounded, alerting me to the opening of the garage door. My heart skipped a beat, knowing that it was Angelo. A lone tear rolled down my cheek. I was dying inside, knowing that what I was going to do would break both of our hearts. Another tear fell, and several more threatened to follow. I quickly wiped them away and sat straighter.
Get a grip, Bethany. You can do this—no more tears.

  “Sono a casa amore,” Angelo called out. The sound of his footsteps echoed off the slate floors as he grew closer. “Ragazzino?”

  I couldn’t move. I tried to call out to him to let him know where I was, but my voice wouldn’t come no matter how hard I tried to speak. I just sat there, staring off into space, unable to focus on anything.

  “Tesoro?”

  My heart sped up. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught his figure moving closer. I closed my eyes briefly, and when they opened, Angelo was standing before me, concern evident on his face.

  “Tesoro, cosa c’e` che non va?” When I didn’t immediately answer, he spoke again. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do it, Angelo.”

  He dropped to his knees in front of me, his eyes searching mine for an answer. “Can’t do what?”

  “I can’t do this.” I pointed between our two bodies. “Us. I can’t not be an us. I thought I could end us, but I love you too much to be without you ever.”

  I flung my body against his chest. His hard, muscular arms embraced me, squeezing so tight it was hard to breathe. All the frustration, indecisiveness, and fear wanted out, and I finally broke. Tears streamed uncontrollably. How could I have ever thought we’d be better apart? He was my heart—without Angelo, there would always be a vacancy in my chest.

  “Shh, bella donna. Sono qui.” His thumbs brushed my tears away as they fell. “What has brought all this on?”

  “I was afraid you’d never come home; you’ve been away so long, and not knowing what was going on drove me insane. I thought the only way I’d never feel that way again would be to leave you. I couldn’t see our future. I tried so hard, but it was empty.”

  Angelo stood, placed his arms under my legs, and lifted me before sitting in the spot I’d vacated and resting me in his lap. His large hands rested on each side of my face as he looked directly in my eyes.

  “Tesoro, you can’t see our future because we’ve never planned one. We’ve been living in the moment, and we’ve never talked about things past the present. That is my fault. I should have asked you questions about your dreams. I should have asked you what you wanted from me, where you want us to go. For that, I’m so sorry. I am not a man who dreams about what-ifs, because I’ve never had that luxury until you.”

  Our lips brushed together briefly for a tender kiss before he pulled away. “And for the record, I’d fight for you with every breath in my body. You saved me from myself; without you and Peanut in my life, I would be walking this earth a shell of a man.”

  “I love you so much, Angelo.”

  “I know, Tesoro. Now, where is our boy?”

  “At his aunt and uncle's house. All the kids are there today.”

  Angelo stood with me still in his arms, walking towards our bedroom. “Then welcome me home like a proper wife would welcome her husband home.”

  My teeth tugged at his earlobe. My tongue licked from the base of his neck to his ear. “Oh, I plan to.”

  Angelo kicked the bedroom door closed with his foot. “Baby, I plan on doing naughty things to you.”

  Chapter Five

  Peanut

  “Dad, what’s wrong with Nonno? Mom said he’s really sick.”

  Even though my dad had been home for several months, Mom had told me last night that he wouldn’t be around for a bit starting next week. That Nonno’s health required Dad to spend more time with him at his doctor’s appointments.

  “Nonno has cancer.”

  “What type of cancer? Can he be cured?”

  “I’m afraid not, son. If your Nonno weren’t such a stubborn old man and would have gone to the doctors more, they might have caught his prostate cancer sooner. But he didn’t, and now it has spread to his bones.”

  Just then, Mom walked into the room. She stopped behind me and rested her palms on my shoulders. I leaned back into her and lifted my head so I could see her. “I want to go to visit Nonno. Please?”

  The three of us sat on the couch and talked about the potential treatments and why Dad would be gone. In the end, without his treatments, the chances of Nonno living much longer were slim.

  I hung my head and let my shoulders drop. “I wish we didn’t live so far away.”

  “It’s funny that you say that.” Mom reached out and took my hand. “Your dad and I want to talk to you about maybe moving.”

  I sat and listened as my parents talked to me about moving to Staten Island. It’s where Aunt Lillian’s mom lived and where Nonno lived. There was a private school I could attend, and Aunt Lillian had a friend who worked at the hospital on the island who would be able to handle anything related to my heart problem. It had been years since my aunt gave me the all-clear, but Mom always worried. She said it was her job to worry even when there wasn’t anything to worry about.

  “Do I get to help pick out our new home?” I exclaimed. I was excited by the thought that I’d have a part in the decision.

  “I’m sorry, Ragazzino. I’ve already found a house.”

  The smile on my face dropped. Angelo, seeing my disappointment, reached out and patted my leg. “But if you want to come to see it when I take your mom, I’m okay with that.”

  “Yes!” I raised my hand, giving my dad a high five.

  When Dad said he found a house, he wasn’t kidding. Only, I wouldn’t call this a home—I’d call it a mansion. It was as big as my Uncle Lincoln’s, maybe even bigger. The first thing I noticed was the big wooden staircase as you walk in the door. When you got to the top, two little staircases took you in two different directions. Every room had its own bath and doors that opened to a balcony.

  “Wait till you see the basement, Peanut,” my dad said.

  As we walked down that next set of stairs that took us below the house, we stepped into a big open area. Off to the left, there was another kitchen with a bar you could sit at to eat. Just past the kitchen was a game area. Pool and foosball tables took up most of the room, but it was the basketball hoop game that excited me. On the right side of the stairwell were a gym, an office, and another bedroom.

  “Can this be my room?” I exclaimed. I imagined being able to play basketball all night without anyone ever knowing.

  “I’m sorry, son. That is the nanny’s room.”

  My head snapped back. “Nanny? We don’t have a nanny.”

  “Someday, we might need one, Peanut.” Mom smiled back.

  “Gross.” Without waiting for anyone to respond, I ran back up the stairs and made my way to the backyard. Tall shrubs surrounded the whole house, creating a barrier from the houses around us. All except for one—that house sat on the opposite side of a tennis court.

  “Whose house is that?” I pointed across the tennis court once my parents joined me.

  “That is your Nonno’s home, and the house that you saw to the left when we pulled through the gates, the one with all the wrought iron around it, belongs to your Aunt Lillian's mom.”

  Now I understood why my dad had already found a house. Just then, a squirrel ran across the yard. I watched it scamper up the side of the stone structure that looked like a wishing well.

  “Is that a real wishing well?”

  “It’s decorative, son, but if you keep walking past that and turn down the walk, there is a pool.”

  Once again, I was off running towards where I was told the pool would be. Sure enough, there it was, along with a small house, much like the one Uncle Linc had, so I knew it was a place to shower.

  “When can we move in?” I asked anxiously.

  “Soon, son. Soon.”

  Chapter Six

  Jefferson aka Peanut

  PRESENT DAY

  I’d never seen our house so packed with people before. In the five years since we moved here, the only people outside of my mom's side of the family who came to visit were Nonno, Mrs. Vicci, Gabriel, and Lorenzo. Now, today, there were relatives on my dad’s side I didn’t even know existed
. Mom and I sat on the patio with my Uncle Linc, Aunt Lillian, and her mother, Mrs. Vicci. We’d been sitting there most of the morning, and no one bothered us. A few men came by and asked my aunt how she was doing, paid their respects to Mrs. Vicci, and left. I got that same feeling I got back when I was nine. Something was not what it seemed; only this time, I was old enough to start asking questions and demanding answers.

  “Mom, how come I’ve never met all these people?”

  She reached out and squeezed my hand but didn’t answer my question. Instead, she uttered, “I guess a funeral brings everyone out.”

  “Stop it, Bethany. Just stop it already,” my aunt snapped.

  My Uncle Linc placed an arm around his wife and pulled her closer to him. She wiggled loose from him and looked me straight in the eyes.

  “You deserve the truth.”

  “Lillian,” my mom scolded.

  “He’s old enough. If you don't tell him, I will.”

  Just then, my dad appeared out of nowhere. “Jefferson, come with me. We need to talk.”

  “Angelo.” My mom raised her voice. She never raised her voice to my dad, no matter how mad she was.

  “Tesoro, it’s time to honor my father properly. He’d done as I requested all those years ago and let us live in peace. Now, he deserves the respect of his grandson knowing the truth.”

  My mother started crying, and my Aunt Lillian stood up and embraced her and began whispering in her ear. Mom shook her head but continued to cry harder.

  “Dad, why’s Mom crying, and what’s the truth?”

  “Come on, son, it’s time we had a chat.”

  I followed my dad into the house and to his office. He closed the door and told me to take a seat.

  “You’re almost eighteen now, that’s old enough to understand the reasons behind some decisions your mom and I made over the years. I’m going to explain everything, and then after, you can ask questions. Do you understand?”