The trial is a circus. There haven’t been any big cases involving organized crime in decades, and when the news agencies found out the Luciani family dirt was being dug up for everyone to see, it meant that every court hearing was held in front of a full crowd and every participant was ambushed by photographers and reporters immediately after.

My attorney warned me that it would be extremely illegal for me to talk to any witnesses at this point in the trial, but when the witness who started all this offered to meet me at his place, I knew I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, especially when he’s set to testify tomorrow.

He’s in a new house now, likely because he told witness protection I had found him at the apartment he was in before. His new house is in a suburb, of all places. I sit down at a scratched and half-broken table in his kitchen while he grabs me a beer from the fridge.

I knew him a lifetime ago, before I started distancing myself from my father’s side of the family. He was my father’s go-to for anything violent. Everyone just called him Ice, because he never batted an eyelash when it came to hurting people or even carrying out hits. He looks different than I remembered. There’s a permanent crease of worry in his forehead, like whatever it was that hardened him to the world years ago wore off somewhere along the line.

He sits down. “Glad you came,” he says. His voice is heavy and has a slight Italian accent. “I’m going to take your offer.”

I try not to show the explosion of relief that floods me. If he was just going to take my offer, why’d he want to talk to me first? I wait for him to tell me more.

He takes a swig of his beer and sets it down, clutching it with hands that are so big they’re more like paws. “You know I had a daughter a few years back. That was when I tried to get out. Michael Luciani doesn’t let men like me just walk away though. He held my past over my head and said he’d get me the lethal injection if I ever tried to leave the game. I don’t remember when it was exactly. Maybe a dance recital or something like that,” he says, a faint, reminiscent smile on his lips. “But I knew it was time. If he wasn’t going to let me go, I’d find a way. So I went to the feds. Told them I’d spill the Luciani family secrets wide open if they gave me a deal, as long as it was fair.”

I nod my head. I hadn’t put much thought into why someone like Ice would suddenly turn rat, but it makes sense, especially after the way learning about my own impending fatherhood changed my perspective on things.

“I asked you to come here because I wanted to tell you I’m going to keep you as clean as I can, Enzo. I heard your girl is pregnant. I know you’ve been trying to make a better life for yourself a long time now. I respect that, and I don’t want your kid to grow up with their dad behind bars, if I can help it. And hey, the money doesn’t hurt either,” he says, flashing a yellow-toothed smile.

I grin. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Your dad though? He’s fucking buried.”

The entire trial process takes three months. Within a few days of Ice’s testimony, my father was taken into custody. Within a month, almost every strong-arm and tough guy he had was brought in, too. His guys tried their best to repay the favor by ratting out me and anyone loyal to me they could think of, but I’d helped Ice by making sure his testimony covered all our crimes, which were primarily more than ten years ago. The combination of how long it had been and the lack of any other witnesses all-but negated the effect of finger-pointing from my father and his men.

We placed the blame first, and everything that came after just looked like desperation.

In the end, the only thing they could pin on me was related to the questionable acquisition of some of my funding. I’d managed to keep most of it under the radar, so I was slapped with a year of probation, some community service, a mark on my file, and a fine that didn’t even qualify as a slap on the wrist.

I could barely believe it when my attorney finished translating the judge’s ruling to Neela and I. “That’s it?” I ask.

“You’re sure?” Neela asks, doubtful.. She’s over seven months pregnant now and adorably swollen. She doesn’t seem to appreciate any mention of how big her belly is though, so I keep my amusement at her pregnant waddle strictly to myself.

My attorney, a man in his fifties with a severe face, nods. “Your father’s men even did you the favor of putting a catch twenty-two on your alleged past crimes. Because you were cleared of them during this trial, you can’t be tried for them again. So long as you stay clean, Mr. Luciani, you’re a free man in the eyes of the law. Absolved of your past.”

Neela looks like she might faint from relief. “You’re absolutely sure?” she asks again.

My attorney laughs. “Yes, Miss Crowley. I’m sure.”

We meet my brothers and Luke back at the club, which has become our de-facto place to meet ever since the whole ordeal with Neela’s kidnapping began.

My crew is smaller now. I let a few of Chase and Niko’s crimes slip into Ice’s testimony, which landed both of them jail time. Even Cade, the guy who helped set up my blind date with Neela through Cassie ended up getting slapped with jail time. Neela was horrified when I explained the truth about that to her, but of course, being her, she forgave Cassie. Under the circumstances, I guess I can’t blame her. Cade was threatening to release nude pictures of Cassie to everyone she knew, so the girl felt understandably desperate.

Of the three in my original crew, I might’ve pegged Luke as the most likely to betray me if given the opportunity, but oddly enough, he has proven to be the only one who stayed loyal. Go figure.

Gino and Angelo are already playing a “celebratory” game of cards, but I know they’d be playing a mournful game of cards or a confused game of cards if things had turned out differently. The two of them always find a reason to play.

Neela’s sister, Jess, is here too. I expected her and Angelo to have hooked up by now after the way they were looking at each other those first few days, but something seems to have happened between them that neither wants to talk about, because ever since, Jess has mostly kept her distance from him.

Neela sits with her legs across my lap on the couch while we watch one of Luke’s dumb romance movies. “You ever going to just admit you watch these because you enjoy it and not because you think it’ll get you laid?” I ask.

Luke considers for a moment. “Can’t it be both?” he asks. His face is so serious that I can’t help laughing.

“Damn,” Gino says throwing down his cards as Angelo scoops up the pot. “Cheater.”

“I’m always a cheater when I win, as far as you’re concerned.”

“So,” Jess says as she sits down with a bowl of popcorn by the TV. “Now that everything is all cleared, which one of you is going to tell dad you two are an item.”

“Wait,” Gino says. “You two still haven’t told him? Didn’t he see you together at the trial or something?”

“He wasn’t there,” I say. “He just put together the evidence for the attorneys. It wasn’t like he was presenting the case. And he apparently didn’t watch it on TV.”

“Yeah.” Neela makes a sour face. “He’s been completely normal around me for the whole thing. The most I got out of him was that he was surprised you and your brothers managed to make it through everything without jail time.”

“We’ll tell him after the baby is born,” I say. “I’d like to know what it feels like to be a father before I’m murdered in my sleep.”

“Nah,” Gino says shaking his head thoughtfully. “The FBI would get you with a car bomb or something. Soon as you turn the key in the ignition? Boom.”

“More likely they’d toss you in a dark cell in some secret prison and never let you out,” says Luke. He doesn’t look away from the TV as he talks. “I claim this place if they got you, Enzo.”

“Like hell you do,” Gino argues. “He’s my brother. If he dies, I get his shit.”

“I’m older,” says Angelo. “You get whatever I don’t want. Maybe you can have that pharmacy he owns.”

“Fuck off. What am I going to do with a pharmacy?”

“Neela gets all my shit if I die,” I say, squeezing her leg a little. “And I’m harder to get rid of than that, anyway.”

Despite my assurances, I hear Angelo and Gino having a quiet but heated argument about who would get what for the next few minutes.

I know the reality of it all hasn’t fully settled in yet. Right now, I just feel good. I feel calm. I’m in my spot. I have Neela. I have the people who are still loyal surrounding me. It feels like more than I deserve, and if I didn’t have Neela and our baby to protect, I’d probably have let them put me in jail where I belonged. Because of them, I’m going to find a way to earn my spot here. I’ll stay clean, and I’ll make sure I never do anything to bring danger into my family’s life.

Any more danger than telling her father about us, at least. I groan inwardly at the idea. In an ideal world, I’d get his blessing to ask Neela to marry me, and I’ll still ask. One way or another, I’m putting my ring on her finger. I claimed her body when I knocked her up. I claimed her when I took her hostage and brought her under my protection. The only thing left is to make her my wife, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to wait much longer.