Indebted to the Mafia King
Something to Look Forward To

Dante

After El falls asleep, I sneak out of bed. Henry might not scare me, but that doesn't mean I don't need to do anything about him. Just that she doesn't need to worry about it. God, she'd kill me if I ever said that to her face.

This is just a temporary measure, I promise myself as I change in a dark closet and leave the room. Just until she's no longer pregnant.

Yeah, that'd stop her from kicking my ass. I shut the bedroom door behind me with a sigh, then call Tony.

He shows up twenty minutes later with Mikey in tow, both of them looking exhausted. I raise an eyebrow.

"Teo needed an angel on his shoulder," Tony says by way of explanation.

"You call in a replacement team?" I ask.

"You think I dropped out of school after kindergarten?" Tony replies.

Mikey just nods and walks in with him. Without conferring, the three of us amble into my office and shut the door behind us. Only once I've poured everybody a drink and sat in the leather chair behind my desk do I begin explaining. "Wish we'd pruned that branch of the family tree ages ago," Tony mutters when I finish.

"Cheers." I raise my glass to him. "But what the hell do we do?"

"Tony's right." Mikey gestures like snipping a pair of scissors.

Taking Henry out isn't my least favorite option, certainly. This is twice now he's cornered Eleni when she's relaxed, out with Mama, just having a nice time. I'm getting real fucking tired of him trying to use her to piss me off. And even more tired of it working.

"Are you stupid?" Tony asks. "He's a fucking fed. We drop his ass in the river, and they're crawling all over us like ants before Nonna even gets a chance to kill me for doing it."

"Henry's the only fed I know of looking into us," I say.

"They're like termites." Tony leans back in his chair. "Where you see one, there are a thousand."

"Looking into the Saints?" Mikey raises an eyebrow.

"El said he had a RICO case." I shake my head. "Bastard could be lying."

"We're not kids tagging our first walls," Tony says. "We cover our goddamn tracks. Every other word out of his mouth is a lie, always has been."

I run my finger around the rim of my glass and turn the problem over in my head. The number one thing my father taught me was how to run a clean house. I'm careful enough about taxes that I have three guys for it, and once upon a time, I could point out half the security cameras in the city on a map. Plus, there's a real argument the Saints don't racketeer. I find collecting protection distasteful. No, the only one of us stupid enough to leave a trail was Uncle John. May he rest in Hell, let's be honest. I squeeze the arm of the chair he tried to take.

"Let's compromise," I say. "We'll watch him, but we won't bury him 'til he makes a move."

Mikey hums. "And if that's too late?"

Then I've broken a promise to my fiancée and unborn child.

"Then we deal with the consequences." I sigh.

Mikey nods slowly, like he'd make a different choice in my shoes. I look at him out of the corner of my eye. I didn't understand how hard the life he's living is until recently, and he's been married since before I took over the Saints. For all his disappointment pisses me off, I can't help feeling bad for the guy. El's upstairs and something in my chest is trying to escape back to her. I can't imagine leaving her state-lines away.

"Well, since I've got you here," I say, "any other business?"

Tony grimaces. "Raided another Russian spot. Lost three good men, but it's cleared out. Any chance we can put a moratorium on all Kalashnikovs entering the country?"

"Doubtful." I swallow. "Get me their names. I'll allocate the money, make the funeral arrangements."

Tony nods. No one says there hasn't been a raid without a few lost lives, or that the first was Seb. Our numbers are slowly shrinking in the face of this Russian horde, and I'm fucking tired of it. But I can't fix it in the dead of night with my wife fiancée upstairs.

"Mikey?" I ask.

Mikey's not going to say anything. He never does.

"Actually," Mikey says.

Jesus fuck, the world really is turning inside out. I pin my fickle attention on him and pray he doesn't have more crap news.

"Adri's been talking my ear off for weeks." He sighs. "She'd kill me if I didn't ask you about a date."

"A...date?" I furrow my brow.

"For the wedding." He looks down at his drink. "The wives are planning it."

I didn't even know that. Fuck, I forgot planning a wedding is the next step after proposing. I want to marry El-want it so bad it keeps me awake at night sometimes but I've been running in so many different directions that the actual marriage part slipped my goddamn mind.

"And you want...what, me to just pick a day?" I ask, trying to get my feet back underneath me.

Mikey shrugs. "Adri'd like that."

Which probably means all the wives have been clawing for information for weeks. Have they picked out a tux for me? Do I get any say in this?

"Tell her to forget it," I mutter. "We'll go to the courthouse. Safer, faster, and I'm not really in a party mood right now."

After tonight, I seriously doubt El is either. She's probably been dozing through these planning meetings.

Mikey exhales through his teeth. "You sure?"

"Yeah?" I frown. "Why not?"

"Cause...." He shakes his head, looks at Tony.

Tony grimaces. He clearly doesn't want to fill in the gaps in Mikey's less than loquacious speech. After a moment of silence, he plunges in anyway.

"Because everything sucks shit right now," he says. "And you love Eleni. She makes you happy. Seeing you be happy would be...good for morale, or whatever."

I grit my teeth and start tallying deaths. Things have been shitty since El and I returned to the city. Tony doesn't make a bad point, as much as it pains him to do so. "They need something to celebrate," Mikey adds. "Been planning too many funerals."

At the beginning of the summer, before Eleni, I would've seen that myself.

"Okay," I say. "I'll pick a date."