December 16th
Giovanni helped the three bundled up kids out of the back of his SUV. Well, two. Michel was old enough to unbuckle himself and climb out.
As for Andino and Catherine, Gio helped the two littler ones out of their five-point-harness safety seats, slipped their winter coats back on, and looked them all over.
“Everybody got mittens?” he asked.
Six hands shot up. All wore mittens.
“Hats?”
Each kid pointed to the hat on their head.
They all wore snow pants, thick jackets, and scarfs, too. Ready to get in the first good snowfall of the year that finally stuck to the ground, and have some fun.
Really, Gio had to do that meeting with the Donati Cosa Nostra boss. It was supposed to be Dante’s meeting, but given his brother was now enjoying time away—yet still close enough—for a break, Gio had taken it on.
And the man’s kids for the day.
Antony and Cecelia were looking after Michel and Catherine otherwise.
“Give me the rules,” Gio said.
“No leaving the park,” Andino said.
“No talking to big people,” Catherine chimed in.
“No playing in the parking lot,” Michel added.
Good enough.
Gio pointed at a park bench that looked like someone had wiped the snow from it earlier. “See that there? I’ll be over there with my friend. I will be watching. Don’t break the rules, or we’ll be leaving early. Got it?”
Three heads bobbed up and down.
“Get playing,” Gio said.
With a flick of his gloved-covered hands, the three kids scattered. He tightened his fleece-lined leather jacket to keep out the chill in the air, and headed for the park bench. A good foot of snow had fallen over the night, adding onto the half a foot that had come down the day before. It blanketed everything in thick, pristine white.
Gio quite enjoyed the sight.
Across the park, Michel had climbed to the top of the snow-covered slide. Andino was working his way up as well. Catherine sat at the bottom by herself. He wasn’t sure if the three were planning on playing Who’s the King of the Mountain or what, but he silently willed them to be careful. He didn’t need anyone breaking a bone or some shit.
That would not be conducive to Dante relaxing when he got a call about something like that regarding one of his kids.
Gio hadn’t been sitting down on the bench for very long when a familiar black Mercedes SUV pulled into the parking lot. It was only because Gio had been friends with Calisto Donati for longer than he could remember that the Donati boss agreed to bring his son along to the park, and have their meeting there. Anyone else, and that would have been out of the question.
Just how it was.
Gio figured since he had to handle Dante’s kids for the day, and do the meeting with Calisto, this would kill two birds with one stone.
Soon, Calisto headed Gio’s way with his only boy in tow. Close to Andino’s age, Cross Donati stood tall enough to reach his father’s waist. Black curls stuck out from under the boy’s wool cap.
Calisto patted Cross on the top of his head, and waved at the three kids playing across the park. “There you go, Cross. Play, huh?”
Cross made a face. “Nah.”
“Seriously, you don’t want to play with the kids?”
“Not really, Papa.”
Calisto shot Gio a look.
Gio shrugged in response.
“Well, give me a few minutes to chat with my friend, then. Okay?”
“Okay,” Cross said.
Quickly, Cross darted off to a bench close by. Calisto sat down beside Gio soon after.
“It’s crazy how much he looks like you,” Gio noted.
Calisto leaned back on the bench, and folded his arms over his chest. “Kills me every time he calls me his uncle in front of people.”
Gio hid his frown by looking away. “I bet.”
“He’s getting to an age now where he doesn’t give much of a shit what people think, anyway. He calls me whatever he wants—I let him.”
“As you should,” Gio replied.
Every man had their secrets.
Some secrets were simply more dangerous than others.
Calisto was a man with a very dangerous secret. Gio was one of the lucky fuckers who actually happened to know what that secret was. Cross.
To the outside world and Calisto’s famiglia, Cross was Calisto’s step-son, a child from his wife’s first marriage that he had adopted on paper after he married Emma. Technically, by blood the two would be cousins, although Gio was aware that most people encouraged Cross to call Calisto his uncle.
The truth?
Cross was Calisto’s biological son. The product of an affair between a boss’s—a man who was now dead—wife, and Calisto.
Gio kept that secret for his friend.
He told no one.
Not his brothers.
Not his wife.
No one.
“Are you ever going to tell him the truth?” Gio asked before he could think better of it. He didn’t really have any business asking. Calisto shot him a look. “Curious, that’s all.”
Calisto blew hot hair into his palms before stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket. “Someday, maybe.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I don’t know how. At this age, he won’t understand. Maybe when he’s a teenager or something. Now isn’t the right time. Besides, he’s mine regardless. You know what I mean? I don’t see what difference it would make when I love him just the same. Plus, I don’t even know how I would start that conversation should I decide to tell him eventually.”
“I would think to start with I love you, you know?”
“Someday,” Calisto repeated.
“Mmm.”
“I was surprised to get a call from you for this meeting.”
Gio chuckled. “Somebody needed a break from life and business before he killed somebody else.”
Calisto nodded. “I know that feeling. Are you looking after his kids, too, or what?”
“Just for today. Ma and Dad are looking after them until the twentieth. I’m still going to be handling the business side of things until the New Year is over, though.”
“Gio, the boss,” Calisto joked.
Gio groaned. “Man, I hate this job.”
“You never were cut out to be a boss, I suppose.”
“Never,” Gio agreed vehemently.
Still, here he was.
For his brother, he kept reminding himself.
Gio and Calisto quieted as a dark-haired, green-eyed girl approached the bench where Cross was still sitting, happily alone. Catherine.
Dante’s only daughter climbed up on the bench beside Cross, and the first thing she did was smile at him.
Cross smiled back.
“Did someone make a friend?” Gio asked.
Calisto snorted. “Cross? He doesn’t seem to like people very much.”
“There he is, man.”
“I guess so.”
“Business?” Gio asked, turning back to his friend.
Calisto settled into the bench once more. “Yes, let’s talk business.”