had held me all night long until I had snuck out with the first sun rays of the morning.
Whatever made Francesca, Francesca, she hadn’t uttered a word to her parents, her brother, or Phoenix about what happened that night. She had kept my secret and when she had seen me next, she had whispered for me to go to her bedroom next time.
And I had.
And every time after that, until I was old enough to fight back and the beatings stopped. And funny how the beatings had been reserved for the firstborn only. Salvatore and Leonardo had been spanked and whacked upside the head a time or two in their lifetimes, but they had never been beaten.
Not. Once.
Francesca’s the only person who as ever seen me weakened. She’s the only person who’s ever seen me broken. And in all the times I’ve gone to her, she’s never once asked me what happened. She’s never asked me if I wanted help. She’s never once pried or pushed for reasons or explanations.
She just always patched me up and fucking held me.
As we grew older, and she knew who I really was, she understood better what the beatings were about. She still never pried, but she got the picture. And even after the beatings had stopped, there were times when my dark thoughts threatened to take me under, and I would seek her out just so she could tether me to some real human emotion.
Ciro and Phoenix never questioned our friendship and I never asked why. But I suspected it was because the more people to protect Francesca, the better in Ciro’s eyes. And Phoenix knew I wasn’t a threat to what they had. Nobody was. Besides, my love for her has always been pure, not sexual.
Francesca was also known as the Church to our Holy Trinity. Her value was widely known.
When Ciro and Phoenix had become official members of the Benetti Family, it had broken her heart, and we had all been regretful for it, but that had always been the plan. And now, six years later, we were the most dangerous group of people in the state. Ciro may own legit clubs, but he was the Benetti’s number one enforcer and my right-hand man. Phoenix may own a legit accounting firm and a real estate business, but he was the Benetti’s number one hit man and my own personal accountant. Francesca was going to school to get her business degree where she’ll manage all our legitimate businesses and help Phoenix with their real estate venture. Robbie was still healing from her injuries, but whatever she decided she wanted to do, we’d make it happen. Ciro, Phoenix, and Francesca may technically work for the Benetti Family, but they belonged to me. They were my family. Their loyalty was to me, first and foremost. Gio came in at a distant second.
Right now, we were all gathered around the living room, dinner finished, and just taking a moment to be ourselves. No looking over our shoulders. No deciding people’s futures. No wondering if the feds will be slapping handcuffs on any of us.
“I put the word out throughout the upper organization that if anyone Benetti member needs to mention Francesca or Roberta in public in regard to locations, movement, or meetings, they are to refer to them as Frank and Robert,” I informed the group. Robbie immediately looked down and I wanted to sigh. Even though Francesca was her best friend, and she married Ciro a couple of weeks ago, she was still skittish around me, and I didn’t like it. I understood it, but I didn’t like it.
“There has to be a few Franks and Roberts within the family, no?” Ciro asked. “Between all the soldiers, Capos, and associates there’s gotta be a sprinkle of Franks and Roberts.”
The Mafia had a definitive hierarchy. You had the Boss, which was self-explanatory. The Underboss, which was pretty much self-explanatory as well. The Consigliere, who was an adviser to the Boss; however, when I become Boss, that position will be shared by Ciro and Phoenix. If I thought Francesca wouldn’t balk, I’d give the position to her.
Next were the Capos, who oversaw the crews, which consisted of Made Men, soldiers, and associates. Now, Made Men were official Mafia family members. A killing was the only way in, and you’d better not be squeamish. Soldiers were the handled the low-level business of jury tampering, extortion, etc. Associates were men who worked for the Mafia at the lowest