fucking cop, and only a dirty cop would get into bed with Giovanni Benetti.
I glanced at Ciro. “How’s Robbie feeling about her new job?”
He smiled, his love for the woman all over his face. “She’s happy,” he replied. “She said she finally feels like she’s not freeloading.”
“Jesus Christ,” Phoenix mumbled. “Save me from independent, stubborn women.”
Ciro snorted. “Amen.”
I poured myself another drink. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I commented. “Those three women are more powerful than they can imagine, yet all they want to do is go to work like normal folks.”
“Not even,” Phoenix retorted. “They’re just trying to drive us fucking crazy.”
Ciro pointed at Phoenix in agreement. “That explanation gets my vote.”
Phoenix eyed me as he said, “I think Remy should take over security.”
I took a sip of my bourbon. “Why’s that?”
“I think she’s going to evolve into it eventually,” he answered. “As protective as she is over her case children, she’s going to be one hell of a mamma bear when she’s ready to give you children. As much as she fought it in the beginning, I think she’s going to embrace it later.”
“That’s a good point, Nix,” Ciro agreed.
Phoenix shrugged a shoulder. “Watching Frankie take over last week when she thought we were in danger made me realize mothers are more vigilant and protective than us men could ever be. It makes sense that the head of the Benetti Family would be in charge of all our safety.”
I smirked. “The head of the Benetti Family, huh?”
Phoenix’s dimples popped. “Tell me she isn’t?”
“Christ, we’re a bunch of pussies,” Ciro cursed.
I laughed because we really were. “I think it’s a good idea,” I finally said. “Robbie will head all legitimate real estate deals. Francesca will head all legitimate finances for the clubs, restaurants, and businesses. And Remy will, eventually, be in charge of our security. I’ll let Sal know what’s to come.”
“What if she says no?” Ciro asked.
“She won’t,” I replied confidently. “Like Robbie, she’s going to want contribute even through her decision to become a stay-at-home mom later.”
“Then that’s settled,” Ciro smirked. “We’ve got it all under control.”
Phoenix snorted. “Yeah, right we do.”
I looked at the two men who I trusted most in the world, even over my own flesh and blood, and knew I was blessed in more ways that I was cursed. My childhood might have been shit, and I might have been raised by a narcissistic sociopath, but that childhood was shaped from what I had with Francesca, Ciro, and Phoenix more than anything else.
I really was a lucky bastard.
“By the way, Francesca and Robbie need to give you girls, so they can marry mine, Sal’s, and Leo’s sons,” I announced. “That’s the only way the future can be secured.”
“Good luck, Nix,” Ciro automatically replied.
“What? Why me?”
“My daughter is not having Salvatore Benetti as a father-in-law, so that leaves your daughter,” he retorted.
Phoenix flipped him off.
Ciro harrumphed.
And I laughed.
“Speaking of in-laws,” Ciro grinned.
I quit laughing.
Epilogue
Luca – (Twenty Years Later)~
Cira walked in, without knocking, and I knew there’d be headache forming behind my eyes before she was done. Out of all my children, she was the only disrespectful brat I had.
I looked up from my desk and raised a brow at her rudeness, but she just kept walking until she was seated in one of the chairs located in front of my desk. I watched as she crossed her legs primly and placed her hands in her lap.
It was a ruse.
There wasn’t a submissive bone in this girl’s body.
At eighteen, she was the spitting image of her mother, but her personality was all Ciro fucking Mancini.
We never should have named her after him.
“What can I help you with, Cira?” I drawled out.
She cocked her head and her voice was all business. “Dad, I know Francisco is going to be Underboss one day, but do you really think he’s cut out for the job?” she asked.
I let out a deep breath and rolled my eyes to Heaven.
This again?
“Cira, we’ve discussed this,” I replied. “Francisco is the oldest, and he’s good at what he does.”
“By eleven months,” she gawked, all pretense of professionalism gone. “He’s not even a full year older than me, Dad.”
Remy had given me four children. Francisco being the first, and Cira being our close second. Two years after Cira, Remy had given me another son, Angelo. Two years after that, she gave me our third son, Emilio, named after Remy’s guard. His assignment had ended up becoming more than just a job, and they were