The Name of Honor

by Susan Fanetti

  People thought total disclosure was the mark of real trust, that you should be able to tell the person you loved everything that you’d ever done or had been done to you in your whole life. And until you did spill your guts, you didn’t fully value the relationship.

  Well, Angie had never had a relationship like this before, so there was a lot he didn’t know, but he knew about secrets, and he disagreed. Yes, you should be able to trust the person who loved you best to accept the secrets you wanted to share. But you shouldn’t have to. Trust also meant letting someone keep the secrets they needed to keep.

  There were lots of good reasons to hold things close and keep them dark. In Giada’s case, Angie suspected she was starving hers of light and air.

  He loved her enough to let her starve her secrets.

  Shifting her legs from his, he rolled over, loomed above her still body, pressed his lips to a purpling rose where his teeth and sucking mouth had been.

  She moaned and squirmed, waking.

  “Shh, mia moglie. Shh.” With a knowing little purr, she settled, and Angie went back to his work.

  With his body, his hands, his mouth, he caressed all of her, from her head down. Not exciting or teasing. Adoring.

  Down her back, over her ass. Gently, when he was sure she was fully awake, he spread her cheeks and laved at her cleft, down between her legs, until she shuddered and squirmed; before she could wind up too much, he moved on, down her legs, lingering at the tender spots behind her knees, continuing to her feet. He was off the bed now, and he turned her gently over and started again, moving up this time, while she watched, her eyes keen and her body pliant.

  At her hips he stopped and dived between her legs again, this time settling in. She tasted of last night’s sex, and his throbbing cock swelled fuller in delight. She gasped and shuddered at the lightest touch of his tongue on her clit, clearly still raw. So now he was gentle, and slow, with no agenda but to love her. Until her hips lifted, and her hands dug into his hair. Then he had a goal.

  Still, he took his time, brought her to a thrashing, begging climax with only slow, gentle touches and light pressure. Making that release spark, and then catch, and grow until it had all of her was a power better than any other he’d known.

  When it was over, and she was quieting, he finished his journey, up her belly, over her breasts, along her arms, until he’d tasted every inch of her.

  When he reached her smiling mouth, he stopped and peered into her jade eyes. Nobody saw him like she did. She made him see himself differently. She’d found his heart and torn it open.

  She’d made him happy, and he hadn’t known he wasn’t.

  “Angelo,” she murmured, his name like a prayer on her lips. “Ti amo.”

  He could happily stand at this strong woman’s side for the rest of his life. She made him feel like a god.

  “Per sempre, amore mia,” he answered. “Per sempre.”

  ~ 24 ~

  Giada sighed and rested her hip on Angie’s desk. “That’s your fault, you know.”

  Chuckling, he lifted his tablet and read, in a voice like a news anchor, “’President and CEO of Sacco Development Giada Sacco announced this week a new redevelopment project on the banks of the Charles River. The ambitious design will cover several thousand feet of river frontage near Watertown and include luxury loft apartments and brownstone-style townhouses as well business and commercial clusters, with a focus on full-service community living.’” Angie smirked up at her. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  Giada rolled her eyes and tapped the headline. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Hmmm. ‘La Belladonna Flexes Her Muscle?’ Could that be what you mean?”

  “Somebody heard you call me that—at the reception, I guess—and now it’s all over the fucking city.”

  He set his tablet aside and hooked his hands over her hips, pulling her along his desk until she stood before him, between his legs. “I’m disappointed to lose it as thing I whisper in your ear, but I like it. It’s good to have something like that—it carries reputation. You’re seen, G. That’s good. It’s what you wanted. Nick hates being called King of New England, too, but a name like that packs a punch.”

  “This is Boston, Angelo, not Quiet Cove. I don’t own the place. I have pull, but I’m not alone in that. There are two other crews with big weight—the Donnellys especially—and we all have to dance a dance of legitimacy. This company has always had its own reputation, distinct from the family. It’s been the shield, and now that shield is weaker.”

  “The minute you took the seat, that distinction thinned, bella. You run both now, so they’re connected.” He picked up his tablet and scanned the article again. “There’s no mention of the family here.”

  “Calling me La Belladonna is the mention—and the way it’s written? Flexes her muscle? That stronzo thinks he’s being cute. It’s all a big wink. Don’t you see the disrespect?”

  “You want me to do something about it?”

  Giada looked over Angie’s head, at the night sky beyond the windows. It was late, and the office was quiet. The sweep and blink of lights told of a city still bustling, but here in the office, they were alone except for the cleaning crew.

  She sighed and returned her attention to her husband. “I’m still fighting for respect every fucking day. I’ve had the family for six months.”

  It had taken her the whole summer—and the example of Johnny Botta—to finally get her own men to understand that her gender, and her much greater concern than her brother’s for the people around them, did not make her less willing to do violence where it was warranted, or easier on the men who disappointed her.

  The men, she finally had in line. She’d shown them a strong spine and a strong hand. She’d also shown them significantly greater sense and steadiness than her brother, and the thicker wallets they already had to prove it had gone the rest of the way toward settling any qualms about her ability to lead her family.

  The rest of Boston still seemed to see her rise to lead a family as a novelty, and apparently that was beginning to bleed into her legitimate business reputation.

  Angie stroked her, his hands skimming up to her waist, down to her thighs, and up again. “My job is make sure you have the respect you deserve. So I’ll handle it.”

  “How? He writes for the Globe. Knocking him around seems counterproductive—and that’s beneath you now, anyway.” Nick had still had Angie doing a lot of his dirty work, but Giada wanted him to delegate it. Her husband might be capable of violence, but he wasn’t a thug.

  He was, in fact, an excellent businessman, which had surprised her not at all. He’d already suggested several significant improvements to tighten their corporate security and strengthen their competitive intelligence gathering.

  “You want the family and this company as separate as possible,” he was saying. “So I’ll meet him as an executive of Sacco Development, and we’ll have a conversation.”

  She lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “A conversation?”

  “Yes. The best threats aren’t threats at all, G.”

  “They’re promises.”

  He shook his head. “That’s what they say, and sure, but also no. It’s more ... showing the person another view of the world. One where things aren’t going so well for him. In this case, I’ll remind him that Belladonna means more than ‘beautiful woman,’ and talk about what deadly nightshade can do to the human body, and how quickly.”

  She smiled. “That’s not keeping things separate, Angelo. That’s highlighting the connection.”

  “If he walks away without bleeding, then the family was not in the room.” He pulled her close, and she sat on his lap. “Embrace the name, Giada. There’s power in it. You wanted to have both sides of the Sacco name, and now you do. Better than that, now you have a name that’s just yours. Belladonna. So use it. This is an empire now. Stand with one foot in the dark and the other in the light and run it all.”

  He
was right. Because she’d been so long excluded from the family side of the business, she’d been thinking of herself now as running two different entities. But she did not. She ran her family and its holdings. For legal purposes, the sides had to be distinct, but she could, she should, embrace the power of both.

  “Let’s drop it. I don’t want you to have a conversation with him, not like that. In fact, I’ll call him on Monday and invite him to do an interview in my office.”

  Angie grinned. “Now that’s a power move.”

  ~oOo~

  The New England Council had only four families now. The Contis had torn themselves apart, and now Maine was managed by the Council itself, an experiment in cooperation that had for these few months been going smoothly. The Pagano, Marconi, and Sacco families had each sent up a team and were dividing responsibilities and benefits evenly so far.

  But Nick, Vio, and Giada had also agreed to influence the fractious Abbatontuono Family through its transition after the don’s death. With their support, Luigi Valeri had taken control of that family.

  Today, in an elegant private room in a Connecticut restaurant owned by Vio Marconi, the Council leadership sat around a table and stared at their newest member, processing his demand.

  Nick spoke first. He leaned back in his chair. “What makes you think you’re entitled to make that claim?”

  “I’m sitting at this table. I’m a don. I should get an equal cut of Maine.”

  Valeri’s glance darted around the table, checking the reactions of the other dons. Giada gave him nothing. She was new to the table, too, but she wasn’t propped at the head of her family like a stuffed doll.

  He’d been chosen of the contenders because his connections were the strongest infrastructure of the Abbatontuono Family. That family did more drug trade than any other in the Council. Drug trade was an erratic business relying more heavily than most on extensive and fluid subcontracting chains. Valeri ran that.

  But apparently his close associations with drug cartels and street gangs had made him believe his own swagger.

  “You’re sitting at this table because we put you there,” she said.

  Valeri actually laughed at her. “Look who’s talkin’. I got twice the right to be in this room than you’ll ever have.”

  Angie tensed so powerfully Giada thought he’d come off his seat, but she set her hand on his leg and kept him in place.

  “Watch yourself, Lou,” Bruno warned.

  “Got men coming to your rescue, huh?” Valeri sneered. “This table ain’t no place for a chick.”

  “There is no chick at this table, Luigi,” Giada bit back. “But apparently there is an ape.”

  “Council meetings are a place of mutual respect, Lou,” Vio said. “This is my table, in my house. You will not disrespect another don on my watch. Giada’s seat is more legitimate than yours, so mind yourself.”

  “The fuck you mean?” Valeri nearly shouted.

  Nick cleared his throat, and pulled the attention in the room to himself. “You are don, Luigi, because we made you don. Don’t forget that. Right now, the Abbatontuono Family is made of tissue. There’s no strength. And the business you earn in, none of us wants. It earns, but it’s dirty and dangerous. The reason you’re here is because filling that seat, keeping the Abbatontuono Family running, is a help in our plans. As long as that continues true, we are a Council of Four Families. But we can erase you when we want.”

  Valeri shoved his chair back and stood up. “I deserve respect.”

  “No,” Nick countered coolly. “You earn respect. An empty demand is an empty man’s gambit.”

  “You all can go straight to hell. When Sicily comes, I hope they roll you into the dirt.”

  He stormed off, his advisors following. A few moments passed after the door slammed before anyone spoke, and it was Vio.

  “Well, clearly we picked wrong. Nick, we can’t let him—”

  “No,” Nick sighed. “We can’t. But I don’t want to take on the drug traffic, and we can’t kill it without sending the cartel into a tailspin. The last thing we need is those crazy stronzi on a revenge mission. We’ve already got Sicily crimping our overseas pipelines.”

  That had been the primary purpose for this meeting. Sicily’s first shot across the bow was to close off key European ports for traffic of any family involved with the New England families. Most of the Pagano and Sacco work was domestic, but the move had hit the Marconis hard.

  The Sicilians had put hurt first on the best ally of the families who’d actually sinned. An excellent strategy, to try to shave off allies and leave the real enemies alone before they attacked straight on.

  “We’ll take the Abbatontuono traffic on,” Giada offered. She felt Angie’s head swivel abruptly to stare at her, but she kept her attention on Nick. Angie didn’t speak. Nor did Bruno.

  Nick raised his eyebrows. “Tell me.”

  “We’re closer geographically, anyway. And Tommy established some inroads into that work. I can tap contacts and make a pretty seamless transition—if you’re talking about putting the Abbatontuonos out of business, too.”

  “We are,” Nick said. “Valeri is a liability, and we didn’t pick wrong. He was the best option—so now there are no options that keep the Abbatontuonos on the board. That family died with Gianni.

  “You’re sure you can handle that load, Giada?” Vio asked.

  She leveled a look at him. “I wouldn’t have offered if not.”

  “I meant no offense.”

  Giada nodded.

  “Forty-thirty-thirty split on the profit,” Nick said.

  “If the Saccos take on all the risk for less than half the profit, I want a sworn agreement that you’re at our side when everything else is done and we want out of this work. If we have to fight a drug cartel next, we do it together.”

  “We did it before,” Vio said, smiling, “and we kicked their ass. We’re with you, Giada.”

  “Yes,” Nick said, but he seemed suddenly distracted, as if an old memory had claimed his mind.

  “I want your vow,” she insisted.

  “I swear on the blood of our fathers, Giada,” Vio said, his hand on his heart. “The Marconi Family will be with you when you end the drug trade and piss off a cartel.”

  “I swear on my uncle and my father, and on the memory of an old friend,” Nick said. “The Paganos will not turn from the fight. You know that.” His gaze shifted to Angie. “The bond between our families is iron-clad.”

  ~oOo~

  On the way back from Connecticut, sitting in the back seat of the blacked-out Durango, while Shorty drove them home, Giada thought about that meeting. The changes in their world had been rolling almost endlessly for years now—from the deaths of two dons, to Nick’s war with the Bondaruks, to her own rise, and Nick’s elevation of Trey Pagano. It had all destabilized two families to complete destruction—this Council meeting had ended with a decision to kill Luigi Valeri before the night was over and wrangle the large Abbatontuono Family and its workings into the increasingly massive portfolio the remaining three families shared.

  Giada knew Nick Pagano well enough to wonder if his ultimate endgame was to be the true King of New England—to be the last one standing.

  But she also knew him well enough to believe he wouldn’t make a vow he didn’t sincerely mean.

  The man at her side, her husband, might be able to offer even deeper insights into Nick’s motives, but she didn’t ask. She meant never to put Angie in the position of choosing between her and Nick again.

  If Nick put him in that position, however, that would be something else.

  But for now, and hopefully forever, they were on the same side.

  Still, she was curious about something, and didn’t think it would hurt to ask. “Nick swore on the memory of an old friend tonight. Do you know who he was talking about?”

  While she’d been deep in her own thoughts, Angie had been staring out the window, absently playing his fingertips over the in
side of her thigh while he swam through his own thinking. Now, his fingers stopped, and he turned and gave her a disapproving look.

  “Giada. What the hell?”

  She smiled and brushed the frown from his brow. “Simple curiosity, bello. I don’t know of any good friends besides you and Donnie, and Vio, all of whom are alive.”

  “He had a friend, a long time ago. Way before my time at the top. They were in a shootout with Colombians, and his friend went down and stayed down. Nick doesn’t talk about him much, but they were close since grade school. That’s all common-enough knowledge. Vio was there, too, that day. But don’t push for more, okay?”

  “Of course not.” She lifted his arm and snuggled under it. “We’re facing war from so many fronts at once. I did not see that when I was planning my own moves.”

  “You didn’t have line of sight into a lot of this until after you’d made your move.”

  “No. That’s true.”

  “Would it have changed your mind if you had?”

  She turned her head and met his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

  He grinned. “Good. It won’t all hit at once. Sometimes it’ll feel that way, but really, war is slow. They last as long in our world as they do anywhere—years. Hell, the Bondaruks lasted almost three years, and they were nobodies. This one? It’ll go on awhile, and most of it’ll be downtime, planning the next move, recovering from the enemy’s last move, and just taking care of business. You gotta live around it, or you won’t live through it. You’ve got this, bella. And I got your back.”

  “This life, it chews people up, doesn’t it?”

  “It can. That’s why it’s so hard to trust and so important to keep it when you’ve got it. Blood and pain can come from any direction at any time, so you’ve got to have a steady base, or ... I don’t know. You go crazy and get stupid.”