Of volume lineage

I nodded. I had the same reservations. The youth were idealistic and emotional. I had no use for either trait.

“When will you join me in New York?” I asked, moving the topic away from my future wife.

Leonardo fell silent.

“It will be harder for me to keep out of the public eye now, Leonardo,” I warned him. “One photo and your cover is blown.”

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, Giova

I could sense his agitation over the phone. Leonardo had always been more open than me, more charming, but even he had his limits.

“I have New York now,” I ventured, trying to gauge where Leo’s head was at. “We no longer need a spy in D.C.”

“That’s not true. The organized crime squad just got new funding from the higher ups. Besides, the Senate is discussing additional RICO laws– laws that would hinder you.”

It didn’t take an idiot to realize that my brother wanted to stay in Washington DC, he wanted to stay in his pretend life. He was leading the organized crime unit of the FBI and was highly respected. I knew that having a trusted informant so high up was a rare piece of gold, and under other circumstances, I would’ve been more than happy to let him remain there.

But Leo wasn’t dragging his feet because he had won Employee of the Month for the 7^th time. No, my idiot brother had fallen in love and started a little family.

“Gio?” He prompted when I remained quiet.

“I told you this would happen.”

He knew what I was referring to. “Diana and the girls have nothing to do with my decision.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you as well as I know myself.”

Leo didn’t refute my claim.

“Do you doubt me when I say your wife and daughters won’t be accepted?” I asked tersely. “Or do you fear your wife’s reaction when she discovers her husband is a mafioso and not the upstanding FBI agent he’s been pretending to be?”

My brother sounded agitated when he said, “That doesn’t concern you, Gio.”

So it was the second one. I didn’t know a lot about Diana, Leonardo’s civilian wife, except for the fact she was the daughter of a revered politician and worked in the White House. Seducing her had been a calculating move on my brother’s part; falling in love with her had been his own fault.

“I will keep my face out of the public for as long as I can,” I told him. “I can’t say the same for Marzia. She attends school.”

“Thank you, Gio.” He paused before asking, “How is my niece? She’s turning seven soon.”

“On the thirteenth.”

My brother sighed longingly. Leonardo had always yearned for a big family, he wanted to be an uncle and have dozens of kids himself. I had no idea why he was still so obsessed with the idea. After all, the greatest horrors we had ever endured had been at the hands of those we shared blood with.

“Wish Marzia a happy birthday from me.”

“I will.”

My phone buzzed with an incoming call from Bartolomeo.

“I have to go, Leonardo. Remember what I said.”

He laughed. “Always but doesn’t mean I’ll listen.”

My lips twitched but they smoothed back down as I hung up on my twin and accepted my consiglieres call.

“Bartolomeo,” I greeted.

“It’s not him. It’s me.”

Isabella.

“Oh? I assume you have permission from your uncle to be using his phone.”

She sniffed. “I didn’t have your number.”

Leo’s comment about Isabella’s rebellion came to the forefront of my mind. Hopefully, she would lose that trait quickly. I wasn’t chasing a headstrong princess around Manhattan. “Say why you called. I’m a busy man.”

“We’re getting married next month,” she began. “Engaged couples usually get to know each other better beforehand.”

“How so?”

“With di

“Careful, Isabella. I’m not the one asking for something.”

I could almost picture her face flushing in fury over my words. Isabella didn’t like to be patronized or spoken down to, even if women of her status were expected to be demure and palatable. My life would be considerably more peaceful if that was how my future wife behaved.

“I don’t want to marry a complete stranger,” she told me.

“Very well.”

Silence passed.

Through gritted teeth, she said, “This is the part where you ask me out on a date.”

This marriage was proving not only to be a financial burden but also time-consuming–and we weren’t even legally wed yet.

“Very well. I’ll send a car to pick you up tonight.”

“How do you know I’m free–?”

“Do you have plans?” She was quiet. “As I suspected. Be ready by seven.”

Isabella made an irritated noise on the other side of the line but wisely remained quiet. Before she hung up, I warned, “Oh and Isabella? Don’t ever touch my consiglieres phone again. If you are so desperate for a phone, I will provide one.” I hung up but before I did, I heard her mutter something beneath her breath.

It sounded an awful lot like fucking asshole.