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He pulls out his phone and taps away until he passes it over, dozens of tabloid articles mentioning ‘The Moretti crime family’ pop up on the screen.
“His dad was the boss of the New York Cosa Nostra. Enzo was his heir and from what I've heard, he’s already taken over. He's got a mad reputation.” My mouth falls open. I thought he was dangerous but not like the mafia dangerous. ”Seriously, him and his brothers are crazy. Like, shoot you if you piss them off crazy.” James adds just to really drive his point home.
I ignore him and continue scrolling, finding hundreds of pictures of men who I assume to be his brothers but only two of Enzo. One from thirteen years ago detailing the death of his mother. Well, it talks more about her funeral and those in attendance, not mentioning how it is that she died. Attached is a picture of a younger Enzo in a black suit, walking alongside an older man in the cemetery. His face looks void of emotion, like a robot. The older man has to be his dad because he looks just like him, the face is stupidly similar although his eyes are decayed. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen eyes like that, there’s nothing behind them.
I start to feel weird, like I’m invading his privacy but Hannah grabs the phone and starts flicking through the articles.
“I know you think you can handle yourself, but this isn’t London. We aren't talking about the Kings or Big Reyes. The mafia here is on another level.” James says. Like he had to tell me that. I used to read Wattpad. I’ve seen The Godfather. I’m not completely uncultured.
“Well, there's not much about him here. Maybe he’s not involved anymore?” Hannah asks. Me and James both give her a look and she makes a sullen face. “He seemed so nice.” She whines. Forever my little ray of sunshine.
I run my hands over my face. “I don't think nice would be a word I associated with him.” He is the furthest you could get from a nice guy. No, that man is rough and dark, like your most sordid fantasy. He’s a hunter and I’m starting to feel like his prey.
I push up off the sofa, I don't want to give this any more thought and freak myself out further. “I'm going to get my lashes done, do either of you need anything whilst I’m out?”
“Can you get us some food on your way back? Something greasy, pretty please?” Hannah pleads with about as much enthusiasm as a starving woman.
“Yeah, of course.”
As I’m walking out the door my phone buzzes.
10:13 AM
(917)202-30888
7
Enzo
Fifteen Years old.
Queens, New York City
I pop my head into my younger sister Francesca's bedroom, she's tucked up in bed as Ma sits next to her singing her a lullaby. She has a beautiful voice that never fails to soothe and calm. Even now, I often sneak in to listen. Frans eyes close and she slips her arm out from under her still singing as she spots me and smiles before walking out and pulling the door closed. She's dressed up to go out, her dark curly hair pulled into a low bun. Our mother is stunning, she has that natural beauty that floors you every time you see it, it’s what drew my father Salvatore in when he saw her for the first time all those years ago.
My Mom was an outsider not from our world, not even Italian. She's Persian, a third-generation immigrant from Iran. Salvatore broke a lot of rules when he decided to marry her. He was already betrothed when he walked into her shop and saw her for the first time, but the moment he saw her, he wouldn't have anyone else. It sounds like an obsession rather than love if you ask me. That's what she tells us anyway. She makes it sound like a fairytale. I highly doubt that was the reality. Salvatore Moretti is the pinnacle of evil. I don't for one second believe it was sunshine and rainbows. I imagine there were a lot of bloody details left out.
She lifts a hand to my cheek, I'm already half a foot taller than her at only fifteen years old. “We'll be back in a few hours, keep an eye on Benito, he has a cold.”
“Why do I have to stay in?” I groan. She raises a brow but I press on. “Uncle Gio has a nanny for Vinny and Aria.” Benny only just turned four and it’s not exactly fun having to look after him and my youngest sibling Francesca. I was planning on going out with Carmine in an hour.
She smiles, grey eyes softening. “That's because Aunt Sofia is sick.”
I must have made a face because she shook her head once. “A nanny is not family, Enzo. You're their big brother, you need to take care of them, all of them.” She has this big thing about me taking care of them like one day she won't be able to do it anymore. Her face softens. “They look to you for guidance, even Luca.” I disagree. Luca is wild. He's only 13 but he's already a force to be reckoned with. Hard to control, and even harder to reason with which is why he and our father don't mix well. Salvatore isn't kind. Not to us anyway, only to Mom. She's the only thing he loves. That has been made clear since I can remember.
“You’re not your brother's keeper, you're their leader. You set the example, they follow.” She says in a soft tone.
I shake my head and she smiles again pulling me into a warm embrace. “You're nearly a man now, Enzo. The responsibility will only become heavier from now on.” She sounds sad. She pulls back, eyes searching my face. “I want you to be prepared, your father's men will look to you soon and I need to know you can stand on your own two feet, and make your own decisions based on your own heart. You need to be ready.”
I frown at her. “I am ready.” I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
She sighs and opens her mouth to speak but Salvatore calls from downstairs, “Soraya, it's time to leave.” His voice is more clipped than he usually uses with her.
She shakes her head, voice lowering. “You shouldn't have to be.”
My brows furrow and she clamps her lips shut. “What does that mean?” I ask.
She looks at me for a beat, apprehension lining her features. “We’ll speak when I get back.”
