I keep mine off because I want to see her, fully see her, my queen, as she gets escorted into the room and stands by my side, accepting her future. The commission meeting has already ended, and while it was a bit chaotic, we all came to the conclusion that every Family remaining outside the States would become a part of the Cosa Nostra.
We would be one. From Sicily to the States.
Including the De Langes.
What was once five is now more than seven.
Each boss waits with their own Families and kids, smiling at me as I hear the sound of high heels clicking against the hardwood floor.
The girls were kind enough to get her ready, and the guys—my guys, the soon-to-be new bosses were only so happy to let their girls have some fun since things have been so stressful.
I stand in the middle.
Campisi—the Capo.
My father is not by my side.
He’s in my heart—my soul.
But my mom stands proudly next to me, holding my hand in hers, squeezing it tight.
Alfero. Abandonato. Nicolasi. Petrov. Buratti. De Lange. Sinacore. Vitela. Rossa. Di Masis.
We are all there.
We are strong.
And for the first time in years—we are one.
Del helped with that.
And I finished the job.
Serena appears first, then Vi, Izzy, Kartini, and finally Annie. They’re all in matching black dresses, their makeup perfect, their heels red in remembrance of the lives lost and the ones they will always vow to save.
Blood spilled, after all—is holy.
I suck in a breath.
And then I’m deceased.
She’s draped in a floor-to-ceiling red gown that plunges down the front in a Grecian style, hugging her curves and making her look like a goddess.
And on her head.
A small golden crown.
It’s perfect. She’s perfect.
Her brown hair is pulled away from her face in intricate braids that tie into the crown and make me crazy with need to undo them all just so I can touch the silk of her hair and feel it between my fingertips.
Her smile is beautiful.
Her green eyes are brought out by whatever makeup the girls used. Her eyes are lightly lined, and the small dimple on the bottom of her right cheek is more distracting than anything.
She’s so pretty.
My lover.
Savior.
Friend.
Partner.
All of my things in one person.
She stops in front of me.
“Today…” My mom’s voice shakes before her twin, Nixon, my uncle, places a hand on her arm and nods, giving her strength. “Today, we honor the new Capo dei Capi of the Cosa Nostra. In a new generation, we’re so proud to call”—tears stream down her face—“Ours.” She continues to cry as she speaks. “Blood, sweat, and tears, so many sacrifices have happened to prepare our children for this moment. And I know we did it right. I know that when it counted, you all made the right choices. Parents aren’t perfect.” She laughs a bit, hiccups on another sob. “But we try our damndest to make sure you’re prepared for a world that doesn’t ever play fair.” She smiles at Del. “All we ask is that you take your job seriously, that you fight for what’s right even when you want to do what’s wrong. That you create a new generation—new Families that grow and understand that things don’t always have to end in bloodshed—that sometimes, they can simply end in peace.” Mom grabs my hand and holds it up. “The Campisi ring. May he rule wisely. Fairly. May he follow in his father’s footsteps with faith, vigor, and an iron fist.” She slowly slides the ring onto my left hand.
It’s heavy.
It’s not mine.
But I will wear it proudly.
I reach for Del’s hands and hold them as my mom takes a piece of string and ties it around our wrists. “Forever bound.”
“Until it ends,” I whisper.
Del looks up at me. “Until it ends.”
“As wife to Tex Campisi, former Capo dei Capi of the Cosa Nostra and Five Families of—”
“Isn’t that my line?” A gruff voice sounds.
I freeze.
Del freezes.
The entire room goes silent as my dad, with the help of Nikolai, limps toward me. His face is unscathed. He looks every inch the strong man I worshipped my whole life.
He’s smiling.
Both arms are bandaged.
It looks like it hurts to walk.
But my dad.
My Iron Man is walking toward me.
My hero.
I want to fall to my knees and sob. The last I heard this morning was that only time could tell.
Nikolai wasn’t giving up but wasn’t hopeful.
“I heard a commotion.” Dad smiles.
Mom bursts into tears and falls to her knees in a heap. Nixon pulls her into his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Slowly, one by one, I see everyone break down from every Family, and I want to throw the ring back. I want to tell him to take it back, take it all back, but I know my dad.
I know him.
He smiles, and before he goes to my mom before he says anything, Nikolai helps him to his knees. He winces in pain, and then he bows his head across both of our joined hands.
And kisses the ring. “Serve them well.”
I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. I used to think it was weakness, crying. But Dad taught me that emotions are strength.
Nikolai helps him up to his feet.
He turns to Del and winks. “Knew you were perfect.”
She hugs him, her one wrist still tied to mine.
He hugs her back, holding her tight, then kisses her forehead like the father I know she always wanted, would have loved, looked up to—the one who ended up being mine.
He holds her close; his massive body looks even bigger against hers as he slowly releases her and then goes back to his knees in front of my mom.
Her hands reach out to him.
He grips both of them in his and brings them to his mouth. A solitary tear falls. I know I’ll remember this moment forever as they touch foreheads and whisper, “Until it all ends.”
Slowly, they both get to their feet.
He’s by my side.
At my side.
My father. My hero. No longer the Capo.
He’s passed the crown, and for the first time—I no longer feel broken. It wasn’t the crown that was shattered in the first place—but my heart. Now, as I look around my family, I realize it’s only ever been whole.
Because of them.
I am whole.
I am King Campisi, Capo dei Capi to the greatest mafia generation the world has ever seen.
Del lays her head on my shoulder.
The future I’ve dreamed of—I can see it, taste it… either way, I will love her. I will love them, and I’ll give my life gladly.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“You have proved yourself worthy. Will you join me?”—‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail’, 1975.
King
“Do we have them all?” I ask from my office as Ash and Maksim walk in, the calm to my storm.
“Junior rounded them up,” Maksim says. “And Valerian and Tank have them all tied up.”
“Like Christmas,” Ash adds. “You know if you’re into just tearing all the wrapping paper in an effort to see what’s inside.”
“Blood.” Maksim deadpans. “Lots of blood.”