Mac sat behind his desk with his elbows resting to the top. What he should have been doing was going over some illegal cigarette and liquor shipments he was supposed to be sending into Canada next month. But no. His work for la famiglia had to be pushed aside because his children were testing every single one of his limits today.
Every single damn one.
Leaning forward, he stared hard at his two sons, and his youngest child, their only girl. Their thirteen-year-old girl, Isabella.
“Now, once more,” Mac said, trying to keep a calm demeanor. “Marquise, Luca, try that again, but with the truth this time.”
Seventeen-year-old Marquise glared at the wall.
Luca, at fifteen, kept his arms crossed over his chest.
Isabella snapped a wad of gum in her mouth.
Teenagers were God’s way of punishing a man for all his misdeeds. Mac was sure of it. He no longer believed that Hell was a punishment for sins, but rather, these monsters people gave cute names to, raised and loved them, only to have them turn when puberty hit.
He wished he was being dramatic.
“Okay, then the Italy trip is off,” Mac said, leaning back in his chair with a shrug.
“No,” Isabella shrieked. “Daddy, no, please don’t cancel the Italy trip. Please.”
“Weak,” Marquise said out of the corner of his mouth.
The closest thing Isabella could find—a pillow, and a book Melina had left on the side table—went flying. The pillow hit the wall, and the book hit Marquise right in the side of the head. Marquise was already reaching for something else to throw.
Good God, forgive me for whatever I have done to deserve this, please.
Mac’s prayers usually went unanswered.
“Don’t you call me weak, you fucker!”
“You are weak,” Marquise shouted back. “Dad would never cancel that trip because he’s going to see—”
“Shut your mouth right now,” Mac warned, “we don’t say those names in this house, Marquise. Rules for their safety, you know that.”
“She’s still weak, though.”
“I’ll show you weak!”
“Bella!”
Mac’s daughter stilled on the couch, and her gaze darted to him. “Well, he insulted me.”
“You did hit him in the head with a book.”
“Daddy!”
Between the oldest and youngest Maccari sibling sat a quiet Luca. It never failed to amuse Mac how his middle child never presented anything close to the middle-child syndrome.
“A guy was bothering Bella,” Luca said, “and she let us know, so we beat the shit out of him.”
Mac’s brow raised at that omission. “That’s why you beat him up?”
Marquise grumbled something under his breath, and his fist shot out to punch his brother in the thigh. Luca barely reacted.
No, Luca was smart.
He would wait for later to get his brother back.
He always did.
“Yep,” Luca said, “and I would do it again.”
Marquise shrugged. “We only got suspended because he tattled like a baby.”
Mac rubbed at his temples, willing his oncoming migraine to go away before it got too bad, and he had to take a pill for the damn thing. “Okay, boys, I get it. Couldn’t you wait until after school when he was off school property?”
“Not really,” Luca said.
“Next time, do that.”
Now that all Mac’s children were in the same high school, he thought life would be less complicated. That was not the case. His children had a wonderful way of making days difficult just because they could.
Most times, he didn’t mind.
He also didn’t want two out of three in his home for the next seven days before March break came up because they couldn’t behave.
“Isabella, thank you for going to your brothers and not gutting the boy the first time,” Mac said.
Isabella preened at her father.
She was shockingly like her mother. Melina’s pretty eyes, delicate features, his olive skin tone, and dark, wavy hair. But beyond the physical appearance, their daughter was Melina all over. Attitude, swagger, and style. She took no shit.
Melina was proud.
Isabella mostly gave Mac mini heart attacks.
“You may go,” he told his daughter.
She stood from the couch. “Is the Italy trip—”
“Don’t you push it right now, bambina.”
Out his daughter went.
Once the door was closed, Mac turned his gaze on his two sons. Neither of them seemed to want to look him in the eye at the moment.
He was not even surprised.
“Marquise, Luca, eyes on me right now.”
Both boys looked to him.
“Marquise, kiss your trip to Chicago with Enric to meet the Outfit boss goodbye.”
“What, but—”
“Luca, same goes for you.”
“Dad, that’s not—”
Mac held up a single hand. “Also, weekends are gone for the next two weeks. Get ready to stay at home and make your mother feel like a queen. Marquise, you can cook supper tonight. Luca, you can help your brother tonight, and your mother and sister cook tomorrow. The garage is a mess, work on cleaning that out and organizing it during your suspension. What else?”
He considered anything else he could pile onto the punishments.
“Head into the library and pick three books each—make sure they’re at least an inch thick or more. I want them all read, and a verbal report on the contents. Don’t ty to fuck me around with some Wikipedia shit, I will know.”
Quietly, Marquise asked, “Is that all?”
“For now,” Mac replied, “but I reserve the right to add things to it. Let’s put this this way, boys. Your mother and sister really want to go on that Italy trip, so make sure they get there by following through on your punishment for this. You know the rules—school comes first always. You keep family and business out of those hallways. Marquise, you have a few months left to be in that damn school, make it easy on yourself. Luca … you know what, just stop altogether. Stop.”
“What about Bella?” Marquise asked. “Is she getting punished?”
“Her fists didn’t break some boy’s face into the ground, Marquise. Jesus Christ.”
Luca muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said that’s only because she came to us,” Luca said louder. “Had she taken care of the guy, he probably wouldn’t be able to make babies.”
“Right, because she’s a smart cookie. Unlike you two. See, she got you two to do her dirty work for her. She escaped punishment. You both think I don’t know the tricks your sister pulls, but this is not my first rodeo. So which two between the four of us are not the sharpest tools in the shed? Your sister, who has her tricks; me, who knows them, or you two, who keep falling for them?”
Neither of his boys spoke up.
Again, not surprised.
“Nonetheless, she still didn’t do anything wrong. The only reason you’re both not spending the next week picking up garbage off the side of the highways is because it was your sister. I respect that—would have liked it a lot more had it been off school property, and not on school time.”
With a wave of his hand, Mac dismissed his boys. The two went without a look back.
Frankly, he was never going to take away their Italy trip. He looked forward to it more than anyone. They still needed a good scare every once in a while.
Kept them all in line.
Mac stood in the kitchen entryway, and watched his teenage boys share punches on the floor. Marquise currently had the upper hand, but that was only because he had five inches and twenty-five pounds on Luca. It wouldn’t be long before Luca equaled his older brother in strength and size.
“What are they doing?” Melina hissed as she came up behind him.
“Fighting.”
“Obviously, Mac. Why?”
“Because they were cooking together.”
Melina let out a hard breath, and glared at the ceiling. “Why would you even bother trying to get them to cook together?”
“I didn’t think it through, really.”
“Clearly. Why the cooking?”
“They beat up some kid because their sister manipulated them into doing her dirty work again.”
Melina smirked at that admission. “She’s so sneaky.”
“Thinks she is, anyway. I’m on to her.”
His wife seemed to decide quickly that she had enough of her sons fighting on the kitchen floor. Walking a couple of feet into the room, she clapped her hands three times loudly in quick succession. It almost sounded like firecrackers going off.
“Okay, that’s enough, you two. Enough, I said!”
Melina grabbed Luca by the collar of his shirt, and Mac stepped in to help with Marquise. The two of them pulled the battling teenagers apart. Marquise spit curses at his younger brother while Luca hurled promises of violence.
Mac had no idea when, if ever, these two would be able to get along for more than a few minutes at a time. Clearly it was possible, considering the two had beat the hell out of a guy and worked it out without killing one another. Why couldn’t they figure out the same kind of thing when they were at home, or elsewhere?
Shit.
They would even fight in church.
“That is enough!”
Melina’s shout echoed in the kitchen. Both boys quieted and stopped fighting instantly. She glared between the two boys. Mac hid his smile and bubbling laughter by looking away.
It never failed.
Him, the boys would push and test.
As much as they could, anyway.
Their mother?
Nope.
Melina let go of Luca, pulled two kitchen chairs from the table, and set them in the middle of the room so that they faced once another.
Pointing at the chairs, she said, “Sit, right now.”
“But, Ma—”
“Luca, I said sit.”
Marquise and Luca each took a seat. The two glowered and scowled at one another. Melina simply shook her head.
“I will finish cooking. You two can sit there and stare at each other. To make time go faster, give each other compliments.”
Marquise scoffed. “You’re fucking kidding, right?”
“Use that word to me one more time, Marquise. Do it.”
He looked away.
Melina checked her watch. “Start now.”
God, Mac loved his wife.
Queen of his house.
The fiercest mother.
Really, his kids were lucky. Melina actually gave a shit.
At the stove, Melina called over her shoulder, “I don’t hear any compliments.”
Luca bitched under his breath before saying, “You don’t punch like a girl.”
Marquise replied, “And you don’t look like one.”
God save him.
These kids would kill him someday.
“Keep going,” Melina urged without ever looking back.
“You’re … basically not a piece of shit,” Luca said.
Marquise shrugged and said, “I guess neither are you.”
Progress, Mac told himself. Accept the progress.
Even if it was barely there progress.
“Nice place to be, isn’t it?”
Mac looked to his left, and nodded at the man resting in the lounger beside his. “Where is that?”
“The top,” Luca Pivetti said.
The man proceeded to sip from a glass of wine as he watched the teenagers make a mess of the Four Seasons’ pool. Italy was a wonderful place to visit no matter the time of year. It was an even better place to visit when a person could meet up with old friends.
“The top is a very nice place to be,” Mac agreed.
Luca smirked. “I know. How’s my son?”
Mac was aware that Luca and Neeya met up with their children a couple of times a year, usually at difference places each time. No one ever discussed those meetings, or when the next one would happen. Mostly because of safety.
“Enric is … good.”
“The first time I met up with him after he could walk again …” Luca trailed off with a laugh, and then added, “He came walking up to me with a big smile, and I have never been prouder.”
“Shame you missed the wedding.”
Luca gave Mac a look from the side. “We’ve missed no weddings. You simply haven’t seen us.”
Ah.
Mac chose not to ask more.
“We come and we go,” Luca murmured, “and it has to be this way.”
“Maybe not forever.”
“Maybe not, but for right now, yes.”
Marquise jumped off the diving board, and soaked his brother with a tidal wave of water. Neither of the two brothers seemed to notice their sister was chilling at the shallow end of the pool with a tan, too-old-for-her boy.
“Someone made a friend,” Luca noted.
Mac forced himself not to get up out of the lounger.
Only because Marquise finally noticed his sister and her friend.
“Not for long,” Mac said with a chuckle.
A shadow darkened Mac’s rays of sunlight a second before his wife dropped into his lap. She dotted his face with sweet kisses that made him smile.
“Hey, doll.”
Neeya stood on the other side of Luca, and exchanged the man’s wine glass for a highball of whiskey. “You look comfortable.”
“Working on my tan,” he told her.
“I bet.”
“We were going to head to the spa,” Melina told Mac.
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Won’t you miss me?”
Mac pressed a quick kiss to Melina’s pouting lips. “Do you want me to follow along and glare at anyone who looks your way?”
“It is a nice thought.”
Luca snorted beside them. “You two are sickening.”
“You are not any better,” Neeya told him, “so climb right down from that high horse, Luca.”
Mac ignored them because his wife was still looking at him and smiling.
Everything was always better when Melina smiled.