The Vatican - M.E. Clayton Page 0,1

ass men. Now, I wasn’t opposed to a woman in power, but her plans needed just a bit more work.

Hanging up with her, I started thinking about our mothers. They were all just as strong, intelligent, and formidable as our fathers, but the way they balanced that line between being strong and independent, and still bowing to their husbands when it was necessary, never ceased to amaze me. The respect between the couples was impressive and inspiring. My mom was the bookkeeper of all the legitimate business they owned, while my father was…not. Aunt Robbie handled all the legitimate real estate properties they owned, while Uncle Ciro…dabbled in other things. And Aunt Remy was head of security for all the legitimate business and real estate, while Uncle Luca…was Uncle Luca. And Uncle Sal and Uncle Leo were completely devoted to everything else Benetti.

Growing up, all this was normal, even though we knew it wasn’t. We’d grown up with guards, guns, and violence. We’d been protecting ourselves and each other since birth. All of us, we’d always known what we were about. And the entire Benetti Family had always known us kids were going to infiltrate the organization slowly, but surely. And, whether Cira realized it or not, the fact that the females of our generation were outnumbers by the males was the only reason the old school elders felt comfortable with us girls coming on board. See, we were destined to do what our mothers were never allowed to do, and that’s get our hands dirty.

I had no problem killing a man.

Sure, I had graduated from college with a degree in Science of Criminal Justice, but the degree wasn’t obtained to save the world, or anything magnanimous as that. It was to help improve how to keep anyone in the organization from getting arrested and thrown in jail. It’s been two years since I graduated, and I’ve been working with Vincent, who reported directly to Uncle Sal, ever since.

While I was twenty-four, Cira was twenty-three. She had gone to college, too, and had gotten a degree in Forensic Science and she worked with Mia Rossi, creating crazy shit for Uncle Ciro. Maybe that’s why Cira thought we could take over. She must not be wearing her protective gear and whatever chemicals she and Mia used were frying her brain.

My phone rang, pulling me from my thoughts, and when I saw the name flashing across the screen, I smiled.

Geno.

I met Geno a couple of months ago at one of Uncle Ciro’s clubs, The Emerald. It had been a Friday night and a bunch of us girls had gone out to unwind. Well, those of us who were of legal age. Even though Morgan City bowed to the Benettis, we weren’t all assholes. We followed basic laws, and even if we didn’t, there’s no way the men in our family would allow the younger girls to go out and get drunk like idiots.

Geno had been sitting at the end of the bar, minding his own damn business, when I had tripped on my heels and faceplanted in his chest. The second he grabbed my shoulders to steady me, two armed guards had hauled him away, and thrown him out of the club.

I had been pissed.

Ignoring all protocol, I had chased them out into the sidewalk and lost my shit on the guards. After ten minutes of me unleashing holy hell, Geno was escorted back into the bar, where I put his drinks on the house and never stopped apologizing for the misunderstanding. My personal guard, Mica, had stayed close by, but the club guards had gone back to our VIP section after I had given them the what for.

Geno and I had ended up talking all night.

I answered the phone. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, Ria.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “You busy?”

“Just settling down for the night,” I told him. “What about you?”

“I just walked in,” he said. Geno was a year older than me and a real estate broker. He worked mostly in commercial properties and lived just outside the city. He told me he liked privacy and running around the city all day or being stuck in the office made him appreciate the solitude of living outside of town.

“Long day?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I was calling to ask you to dinner tomorrow night, but it’s been a hell of a week, and I was hoping you’d have mercy on me and let me just come over with a