Indebted to the Mafia King
Saying Goodbye

Dante

I stand on the porch of my safe house upstate, fidgeting with my watch.

When Eleni told me she mentioned Christos to Mama, I nearly stopped breathing. I expected demands for answers about why I killed her son. I didn't expect tearful requests for his last words, college stories, and to leave from the airstrip upstate when she returned to Greece a few days later.

I can just see the two of them through the trees, standing in front of the half-hidden grave. Eleni holds Mama, and both of them shake. For the first time in a week, I can actually forget about Camila. I stand on the edge of a towering, personal grief, knowing I was the one who caused it. Still, I'm never really sure if I regret shooting Christos. I miss the devil-may-care freshman, the once-in-a-generation running back, the bastard who made me laugh and carved a line through parties with me. I fucking hate the memory of the taste of his blood, the gunpowder that stained my hands for what felt like weeks after. But the Christos I shot wasn't really the one they loved anymore. And now at least Mama gets to keep her vision of them intact.

Finally, the two of them rejoin me on the porch with puffy eyes and straight backs. Whatever happened out there is not for me to know.

"Ready?" I ask.

El nods. "As I'll ever be."

Mama squeezes her hand, and we head out to the car together. Luckily, the drive to the airstrip isn't long. My pilot bitched about the fifteen-minute flight upstate, but I just told him to call it an extra hour spent flying to Greece, and that quieted him down. We pull up to the small tarmac, and Maria looks at Eleni.

"I love you," she says. "You must come visit."

Eleni smiles tightly. "I love you too, Mama. And we will. Just as soon as I know how my first semester is going to go."

Mama smiles. "My daughter, NYU. I always knew you were the smart one."

I flex my fingers on the wheel and try not to intrude. Despite her interrogation, Mama seems to be warming to me, but I know this is their moment.

Suddenly, she says. "You will get my bags, yes, Dante?"

I switch off the car. "Of course."

Eleni hugs her one last time, and she and I get out. I unload her two bags from the trunk and start heading for the plane.

"You were friends," she says quietly, in the voice I've come to recognize means she's talking about Christos or her husband. "Was he...?"

She doesn't have to end the question. I know she's asking if he joined my line of work.

"No," I say. The best lie I've ever told sparkles through the morning air as her shoulders slump in relief.

"Don't tell Eleni I thought that," she says. "Her brother was her hero. Just like my Gregorio. They only saw his sun shining."

I hand her bags to the flight attendant and turn to face her. "Eleni is tougher than you think."

She smiles tiredly. "Eleni is tougher than I am willing to admit to myself. But a mother's job is to protect her children, even after they stop needing it."

I chuckle. "That, I understand. What am I supposed to do as a husband with a wife like her?"

Mama looks at me steadily. "Just what I am doing. She can take care of herself, but she deserves the breaks. Give them to her, always."

"Every time." I open my arms for a hug.

She embraces me. "I am not kidding about the visit. I will make friends with your pilot and have him kidnap you, if I must."

"Deal." I kiss her on the cheek and let her go.

She boards the plane and waves once from the top of the stairs. I return to the car, and El.

"What did she say?" Eleni asks.

"To take care of you." I hold her hand as the plane taxis away.

"It doesn't feel like peacetime anymore, does it?" Eleni says after a long moment.

My temper flashes. She's talking about Henry Alcott, cornering her and Mama the other day. If I knew where he was staying, I would've punched his nose in for that alone, plans be damned.

She shakes her head as she sees my face. "Not just Henry. Whatever's going on with the Russians and Camila too."

I sigh. "No, it doesn't."

The plane takes off, and I pull out of the airstrip. We chat for the whole drive home, both of us avoiding the pronouncement that our quiet summer is ending. Eleni starts school in two weeks, and we have a wedding to plan. Things were going

to be busy enough without whatever war is kicking up. So we try to hold onto these last few moments by planning the most extravagant, avant-garde wedding either of us can imagine.

"And then," Eleni says, "I'll swing in on the trapeze, and you'll catch me."

"No." I turn onto the street I've been looking for, deep in the city. "The priest, who is also on trapeze, will catch you and toss you through a ring of fire into the waiting arms of an ice sculpture of me."

She laughs. "Which will melt, because I've caught on fire, to reveal you inside. At which point-"

I pull into an underground garage and park in the spot labeled 1A. She glances around.

"Where are we?"

"You won't live on campus for the semester." I climb out of the car, walk to her side, and open the door. "But I don't want you commuting from Staten Island every day."

"Dante," she says warningly.

"Just let me show you." I smile.

She eyes me suspiciously but lets me lead her into the elevator, then use the key card to head to the second to top floor. The doors ding softly and open onto a stunning apartment I purchased fully furnished.

"We can change anything you like," I say as she drifts away from me. "But it's a five-minute walk to Tandon from here. You'd barely need to get up in time not to miss class."

"And you'll live on Staten Island?" She looks at the massive windows, the sunlight pouring in.

I shrug.

"I don't like it." She crosses her arms and turns back to me. "I'm not living away from you. You can't just cut me out of the Saints like this."

"Hey, I'm not cutting you out of anything." I rush across the living room and take her in my arms. "I'm going to have a lot more work in the city now that I've got all this Lombardi territory. I just didn't want to crowd you." She purses her lips. "But you'll still be there sometimes."

"Piacere is on the island." I sigh. "It's not a perfect solution. But did you really want to take the ferry every day?"

She looks around. "I'll come home on weekends. And "

My phone rings. Tony. El falls silent as I pick up the call.

"Get here," Tony barks. "Yesterday."