Amo 21, Greta 16
Greta had gotten up early to work on her potaburé, Fountaine pointe, and the swan spin her instructor wanted her to get down before her next recital. Greta had been getting up at five in the morning each day to work on it before the home gym got too crowded. She didn't mind the others but it was hard to dance when so many got in the way. Her family wasn't typical, Greta knew that. Her hard work and fantastic progress she had been making in dance had led to her mom talking to her about her future when she was younger. Greta would never be able to be a professional dancer. She would never be able to pursue dance after graduating, and while for most people, it might have meant giving up, the knowledge her time was limited meant that she couldn't waste a single moment. She pushed each practice, each movement, and each moment to the fullest extent possible.
She had been straining her feet and her toes, her arches ached from the high intensity she had pushed herself too, but she was determined to get this move down, even if it killed her. With one last spin and leap, Greta dove into the Fountaine point. Her toes ached against the box and she could only imagine the blood and blisters that formed on her feet from this morning alone.
As she unlaced the slippers and unbound her bandages, Greta hissed at the raw blister on the side of her foot that had been getting worse every day now. The bandages were coated in blood and she knew she had pushed herself too far, but she had to get this position down.
"If dad sees this he's gonna be pissed" Nevio rested in the doorway of the home gym. "You've already had three infections and two broken toes in your right foot alone in the past six months. You're pushing yourself too far, even your instructor says so."
Greta made an exasperated sigh and began to bandage up her feet with a fresh cloth. "You don't understand."
"Yes I do, I can see you in pain. You wince every time you put too much pressure on your right foot. If you don't give yourself time to rest and heal you're gonna get seriously hurt."
"You're one to talk," Greta muttered under her breath. Greta knew the Camorra tattoo Nevio had gotten a year ago held more than he would ever reveal. Nevio gave her a look daring her to continue her thought, but she just shook her head, not in the mood for a fight this morning. She grabbed her bag and pulled an oversized sweatshirt over her leotard and leggings.
Nevio looked at the sweatshirt confused, "That's my shirt."
"It looks better on me." Greta threw her bag over her shoulder and headed out the door.
"You went into my room?" Nevio asked.
"You go into mine all the time."
"That's different. I'm a man now, I need my privacy."
Greta snorted a laugh, "What? You're afraid I'm going to find the bra and panties of the last girl who you've had in your room? Too late." She turned to look at Nevio, he didn't seem amused.
"You weren't supposed to know that," he said, saddened.
"Well then tell the next girl you sleep with to take her undergarments with her when she's done having sex with you."
"Greta, I mean it, stay out of my room. You aren't supposed to know about that kind of stuff let alone accidentally see it."
"You forget, Nevio, we share a wall. I don't have to see it to know what's going on because I can hear it." Greta strutted down the hallway feeling very pleased with her comeback.
Nevio groaned and followed after her.
The Falcone's gathered around the table for breakfast, everyone staggered in grabbing a pancake or some juice as they sat down at the table. Kiara piled her plate high with fruit, dropping a few pieces on her son's plates. Alessio looked slightly hungover when he came in, but Greta didn't say anything. Since the boys had been inducted officially into the Camorra, they stayed out late each night, partying, drinking, and probably other things Greta didn't want to know about. She already heard Nevio through the walls.
"Have you started baking the cake yet?" Nevio asked their aunt innocently while sharing a look with Greta. Kiara shook her head at the pair and waved her finger at them.
"Not again you two!" We have not had a cake for any event with this family that wasn't pilfered early, ever since you two became tall enough to reach the table. I will not have your birthday cake cut into before the candles are blown out." Kiara's words were followed by Nevio looking like he had just been given a considerable challenge.
"Can we at least know what flavor it is?" Greta asked innocently.
"It smelled like chocolate and fruit." Aurora piped up between bites.
"So you're baking it at Aunt Leonas'?" Nevio's voice held glee. "I'm all for chocolate, but can we ditch the fruit?"
The conversation came to a halt when Remo's phone rang. Serafina and Nino shot him a look as if they all knew a secret they weren't willing to spill. Greta was very observant, so while Nevio was plotting how to get the cake early. It was the call that caught Greta's attention immediately while her brother continued to stuff his face. Something was going on, and it seemed like a few people were in on it. She was used to being surrounded by secrets. No one trusted that the girls could handle everything the guys dealt with during the day. Though to be fair, Greta had been told by her aunt Gemma once that her father and uncles were far more open with their families than most made men were at home. Remo strode from the breakfast table leaving a half-eaten plate before walking outside to answer the call.
When Remo came back in he cleared his throat. "That was Luca Vitiello. He, his wife, and his son are flying in today for Greta and Nevio's party tomorrow."
Nevio made a face, "Why'd you invite them?"
Remo shared a look with his wife. Her eyes widened in a way Greta recognized as her 'tell them' look. Her father slightly shook his head no, before their mom gave him a reassuring smile and began to speak about whatever they must have been silently discussing. "They will actually be here for the week. Your father has been speaking with the Vitiello's and decided that the Camorra and the Familglia need a tighter bond."
The breakfast table was silent, except for Alessio who asked the obvious question, "What kind of bond?"
"The Famiglia has always said that the best way to ensure that kind of a bond is by marriage, and it seems his son has taken an interest in...Greta...," Remo trailed off looking at his wife.
A confused look passed across Greta and Nevio's face, not sure what their parents were getting at. "We have talked it over and decided a marriage alliance between two children of Capos is the strongest union anyone could ask for," Serafia explained.
"What do you mean?" This time it was Massimo who spoke. Everyone turned to stare at Remo as if at any moment he would tell them all it was a joke and what they were getting at was not what everyone was thinking.
"Greta and Amo will become engaged this week," Remo said reluctantly. Tension soon filled the room.
When no one said anything, probably related more to shock than actual anger, Serafina piped up, "We will host a party to celebrate!" she said in a cheerful voice, hoping to lighten the mood, "It's a Famiglia tradition." Kiara added as if that explained why they would be celebrating an arranged marriage.
"And after she turns eighteen they will get married." Remo scoffed at the traditions, he could have cared less. In his opinion putting a ring on a finger and a quick marriage showed enough.
"A wedding!" Aurora piped up excitement in her young voice before Massimo hushed her.
Greta sat frozen in her chair, her fork stopped halfway between her plate and her mouth. She felt a lump forming in her throat and almost choked on her pancakes. 'No. No. No. This cannot be happening. No, it just can't be...no' the voice in her head was becoming too much.
"No!" Greta was surprised when the voice wasn't hers. Nevio had slammed both his hands and abruptly stood from the table. His movement threw back his chair and caused the table to shake so violently that the pitcher of orange juice fell onto the remaining hotcakes. "You can't do that!"
Remo looked at his son, a spitting image of himself, and bit back, "I'm not asking your opinion, this is final and when Luca gets here today we will shake on it."
Nevio blew up. "You have no right! I will be Capo one day shouldn't I get a say in who my sister marries? I won't let her marry someone called the fucking 'Sandman'! That's stupid!"
"You will be Capo, but not today. You have a long way to go before you rule over Las Vegas and frankly, right now Greta could do a better job than you." Remo spat back.
"I won't let her marry him. I will kill him before I let him even look at her, He will-"
"Nevio, stop," Greta spoke quietly. "Just stop." For the first time in a long time, Greta felt tired. She felt the weight of fatigue under her eyes and the ache in her legs and feet. For her age, Greta knew more and witnessed more because of her life in the mafia than a normal girl would. Greta clung to ballet as a newborn clings to their mom because it was the closest she could ever get to being a normal sixteen-year-old girl. She was tired of all the brutality that came with the mafia. Greta was tired of knowing her future was planned for her. She was tired that her brother always spoke for her. She was tired, and today she just didn't want to deal with any of it.
Nevio looked confused, "Greta you can't be okay with this? He's the son of Luca Vitiello, he's the Famiglia, he's the enemy. Even you have to have heard the rumors about him. This isn't like one of your stupid fairy tales. You can't let a little school girl crush-"
"Nevio!" Greta shouted. "Stop! I can speak for myself, I don't need you to do it for me."
A look crossed Nevio's face that Greta didn't like. He stormed out of the kitchen and she went after him.
"You can't seriously be okay with this," Nevio said when Greta caught up with him.
"It doesn't matter if I'm okay with this, I have a duty. We knew this was bound to happen at some point, if it's not Amo then it'll be someone else."
"A duty?" Nevio scoffed. "You don't even know what that means."
"Yes, I do. I may not be a made man, but I still have responsibilities as a girl in this life. You wouldn't understand, you'll be Capo one day, you can do anything you want. I can't. I can't do what I want, I can't marry who I want because I don't have a choice, and if I did who would I choose? I'm not allowed to be around any guy by myself and the guys I have met are either your friends or family. I trust dad and I know he would never do this without really thinking it through."
Nevio didn't say anything for a long time. "You can't leave me," Nevio told her in almost a whisper.
"This was bound to happen someday Nevio. One day you will get married too and have your own family as well. Just because we aren't together doesn't mean we're apart." Nevio wasn't reassured.
Greta bumped him with her shoulder. "Nevio we are as close as we can get without being conjoined. It was hard when we had to stop sharing a room, but we made it. It was hard when I started going to an all girl's school, and it's been hard as hell to watch you grow up exploring this world around us, while I'm stuck at home with parents who try to shelter me from the world we live in. We've made it this far, we can do it again."
Nevio looked at Greta for a long time. They had been inseparable after their births, but with each passing year, they saw less and less of each other. Despite life taking them in different directions, they had done everything that mattered together, birthdays, holidays, and rarely had they spent more than a few days apart since the moment they were born. Even though Nevio knew Greta was bound to get married someday, he still pictured her living here with him. It never crossed his mind she might actually leave Las Vegas. All of his uncles and cousins lived in the mansion, everyone had their own wing. Even their Uncle Fabiano who wasn't a blood brother lived in the mansion next door. Why would his father ever agree to allow Greta to marry someone who would take her so far away from them?
Anger filled him at the thought of Amo. How dare he. He was just going to waltz in here and scoop his Greta off her feet and march right out. 'Over my dead body.' Nevio thought. Right there Nevio vowed to himself and his sister, even if she didn't know it, to not let this marriage happen. Amo didn't deserve his sister. Nevio would stop this ridiculous alliance any way he could, and if he couldn't he would die trying.
Greta gave Nevio a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you Nevio, please promise me you won't do anything stupid, no matter how upset you are." She knew him too well.
Nevio still didn't say anything, he whipped out his phone and started furiously typing something. With a tired sigh, Greta left Nevio alone and headed back to her room to change out of her leotard and tights.
After taking a quick shower and throwing on some clothes, Greta headed towards Nevio's room. She had thought a lot during her shower, but she had more questions than answers. The last time she had seen Amo Vitiello was years ago, why her? Why now? They hadn't seen each other in years. She scoffed at the idea of him taking an interest in her as her mother had claimed. No, this was a business deal. She had heard the rumors. Her parents couldn't shield her from everything. Each year that the Camorra and the New York Familigia remained peaceful the rumors had grown. They started with her innocent kiss at her uncle's wedding. People giggled and called them the "Royal Couple" she had been too young to know why the event had upset her father so. Years later when the two danced for mere seconds at a Christmas party fuel was added to the rumors. She had thought maybe the talks would have died out after all these years, but some people just couldn't be stopped from speculating if the families had arranged a marriage at her birth which is how peace had remained for so long. She of course knew that was ridiculous.
With more questions than she had answers, Greta decided to push all thoughts that weren't of her party aside. She hoped Nevio had calmed down enough. She needed him to take her shopping for the perfect birthday dress, and it would serve two purposes. Many times when Nevio got so upset and wouldn't talk, she would coax him to drive her somewhere and then inevitably get him to talk. Nevio was not one to sit in silence.
She knocked on his door impatiently, "Nevio, I need to go get a dress for tomorrow can you drive me?" Despite knowing how to drive, and even being a better driver than Nevio, Greta was still not allowed to leave without someone. Greta could hear loud music playing from behind the door. When no one answered the door she knocked again. "Nevio! Turn your music down, I need to talk to you!" When he still didn't answer Greta opened his door and screamed and averted her eyes. It seemed that Nevio had a guest over, and from the lack of clothing on both of them, she doubted they were just wrestling.
"Greta! Get out!" Nevio jumped out of bed trying to cover himself. The girl in his bed frantically grabbed the sheets and hoisted them up to cover her very exposed body. She cursed herself for not realizing what she was walking into. Nevio had learned as the years progressed to restrict his nudist lifestyle to his room, but the whole upcoming engagement had her mind so distracted she forgot the one rule she gave herself years ago. To always cover her eyes before she walked in. Not too long after her yell Remo, Savio, Nino, and Alessio came running toward the spectacle after hearing the scream. They had their knives out and looked ready to pounce.
"What's going on?" Remo asked, looking around, his eyes landing on Nevio who was covering himself with a pillow.
"Trust me," Greta shuttered, "you don't want to know."
She decided it was best to not have a shopping trip with her twin after interrupting him and so she convinced her uncle Savio to take her to look for dresses instead. He was the easiest to convince out of all her uncles. He had been wrapped around her finger since he first set eyes on her. She begged her Aunt Gemma to come as well, Greta needed her fashion opinion, and she loved Gemma's style. She had even raided her aunt's closet a time or two because of it.
They went to a couple of places Gemma suggested, Savio groaning that they were taking too long. The third boutique they went to was the place Aunt Kiara recommended, she shopped there frequently. Greta had gone shopping with her aunt here many times over the years when she was younger. At that time, Greta had loved to pretend to be a grown woman in elegant gowns. As soon as she walked in, she was recognized by the blonde sales associate. The lady, who's name tag read Susan, approached her with a smile. "Hello Mrs. and Miss Falcone, Mr. Falcone! How lovely to see you today! How can I assist you today?"
Greta smiled shyly and said in a soft voice, "It's my sixteenth birthday tomorrow and I need a dress." While she had learned not to give in to the shyness that plagued her as a child, she still found herself speaking softer with strangers than she would typically at home.
Susan clasped her hands together, "How wonderful! Let's take you on back and see what we can do." Greta and her entourage followed Susan to the back of the store where they kept their most elegant and expensive gowns, it was well known amongst the sales associates that the Falcone's preferred quality items. As they reached the best selections the store had available, Susan offered to get some champagne for the group. Greta was about to refuse when Savio accepted for all of them. Champagne in hand, Greta was set to finding the perfect dress. Third time's a charm after all!
Not too long into perusing, Aunt Gemma called out, "Greta! This would be gorgeous on you!" Gemma handed her a stunning baby blue dress off the rack. It was a sleek and strapless A-line that stopped just above the floor. Greta nodded in approval and Susan whisked it away and into her dressing room.
Savio mindlessly flipped through the dresses with a bored look on his face. Greta hoped she would find the perfect dress before he died of boredom. Just then, something caught her eye, a lavender dress with a short skirt, halter top, and intricate beading on the bodice. The skirt looked like a tutu, while still being elegant. That too, was added to the dressing room. After another half hour of searching, Susan came up behind Greta and politely cleared her throat. "Miss Falcone, I don't mean to interrupt, but your Aunt Kiara has called. She was browsing our online store, and she requested you try on a specific ensemble she thinks you might like. If you don't mind, I can put it in your room for you?" Greta wondered what it looked like. "Yes please, and I think I'll start to try them on now." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Savio breathe a sigh of relief. Susan led her to the dressing room before retrieving the gown Kiara had picked out. Gemma and Savio waited outside the dressing room on plush chairs while sipping their champagne.
Greta tried on the lavender dress first and went out to model for her family. "You look lovely!" Gemma said, but Savio let out a laugh. "If your dad saw you in that, he would flip his fucking lid! Sorry Dollface, but the skirt is too short, and the neckline is too deep. I don't want to get killed, so next." Greta groaned in disappointment and turned back to change into the blue dress. When she put it on, the top kept wanting to fall off of her. Greta held the bodice up and went to see her aunt and uncle again. When she got out, she said, "The top won't stay up, and the material feels itchy. I don't think I like this one. I don't want to flash my guests!"
"Your dad would have to kill them all." Savio snickered, and Gemma gave him a look. "That color isn't good on your skin tone anyway," Gemma agreed. Before Greta turned back again, Susan came around the corner, holding up a dazzling red dress. It had a sweetheart neckline, long lace sleeves, and a full ball gown skirt with beautiful crystals making swirls and flowers all over the bodice. Greta gasped in awe at the sight. Susan followed Greta back into the dressing room and explained that the dress was a corset back, and she would need to tie it up once Greta put it on. After Susan finished tying the delicate ribbon, Greta stepped out. Gemma and Savio both took in a breath.
"Dollface, you've never looked more like your mom." Savio let out with a nostalgic look on his face. "You look so grown up! I can't believe you aren't still five!" Gemma said, going up to hug Greta. "I think this is the dress!" Greta exclaimed. Then she turned to face Susan, "I only have one question. Does it come in pink?"
When they pulled through the gates to the Falcone mansion, two big black SUVs sat out front. Gemma gave Savio a nervous look.
"Our guests have arrived," Savio said, not hiding the annoyance. He wasn't any happier than his nephew was about the engagement, but he kept his opinions hushed around his niece. Greta was filled with nerves as she got out of the car, acutely aware of who was now inside.
Despite the comments Nevio had made about her childhood crush, Greta had not cared to think about the future New York Capo in many years. She remembered him being gross and making her cry the last time she'd seen him. With that thought, she felt the sudden urge to run away and throw up, but she wasn't sure what would happen first. Before they could even make their way to the door, Nevio burst outside, looking furious.
"I refuse to be in this house of lunatics!" Nevio shouted. Greta had never seen him like this before; he was beyond angry. "How dare they strut in here and act as if they own the place."
Nevio headed towards his Bugatti, an early birthday present, opened the door, and got inside. The engine sprang to life, and Greta knew there was no stopping Nevio now, driving fast cars and punching things were some of the ways he relieved his anger. He was scarily like their father.
"Nevio!" Greta cried over the roar of the engine. By this point, everyone had filed out of the house and was watching the scene go down. Remo was in the lead, looking furiously at his son. Luca Vitiello followed behind, looking quite irritated.
"Greta this is your last chance, come with me, and I'll take you away from this madhouse." The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine, she had never seen Nevio so upset. Greta's temple began to throb, this day had taken the worst possible turn, and it wasn't even dinner time yet. Since she had been up at five, her feet hurt, she still had not gotten her dance positions down, found out she was about to become engaged to a stranger, walked in on her brother in the most unflattering way, was probably going to be late to her lesson in thirty minutes and now was standing in the same area as her almost fiancé and his family, and her brother was going crazy in the process. Greta wasn't sure if she needed a hard drink or to punch something, but at the moment, either option sounded good.
Greta looked from her family to the Vitiello's and back at her brother. She shook her head and said, "Nevio, you're overreacting. Come back inside." Nevio scoffed, cursed, held up the finger, and then sped off. He really did have a bad temper.
Greta turned around to approach the crowd in front of her. Luca's face read that he was on the verge of blowing up as well. Remo's eyes were dark with fury like he was contemplating handing his son over to the Bratva so they could have their way with him. Serafina nervously bit on her lip as she always did when Nevio left in an angry rush. Nino and Kiara shared a look that said they were glad their sons hadn't inherited the Falcone temper.
Remo turned to his guest, "Let's get back to business; I will deal with him later." Greta shivered, not wanting to be Nevio when their father got to him.
Everyone shuffled back inside, except for one. Serafina and Aria both giving Greta and Amo small smiles as they left. The future Famiglia capo stood leaning against the door frame. He had grown taller, and with his dark eyes and black hair, it was apparent why people called him the Sandman. He looked like the darkness within him would swallow anyone whole. Greta hesitated before she made her way to the door. He stared at her intensely as if he knew something she didn't. When she drew closer to him, and he didn't move out of the way, she let out a soft "excuse me." Amo smirked. Despite being quite tall for a girl, Amo towered above her, making her feel small. His dark hair fell over his forehead in all the right places, and his eye seemed lighter up close but darker than she remembered from when she last saw him.
"I must say, you really are beautiful." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch made Greta feel very exposed and underdressed in her shorts and oversized crew neck sweatshirt. "I can't wait to see what you will look like in a few years. You're already stunning for a girl of sixteen."
Greta pulled away from his touch. "I need to get through."
"Oh Twinkle Toes, don't be so shy; I don't bite." His smirk turned into a dark shark-like grin.
"Don't call me that," she muttered, cringing as she remembered how he had tasted the blood off her toes years before.
He laughed and stepped aside, allowing Greta to hurry past him and head for her room. She had a ballet lesson in thirty minutes and was already running late. Had it not been for that, she might have gone to help her mom play hostess, but she would need time to prepare before being around the Vitiello's for longer than a passing moment.
Greta rushed into her room and threw her shopping bag on the bed. She grabbed her black leotard with the strappy back and black tights; pulling them on quickly she followed them while throwing Nevio's sweatshirt on over to cover herself up. It laid loosely and fell over one of her shoulders. Wrapping her wavy curls into a messy ponytail, she grabbed her bag and shoes and dashed out of the room.
Greta's stomach growled. She hadn't eaten anything since a few bites at breakfast. She decided that eating and being late was better than passing out during a lesson due to a lack of nutrients. She dropped her bag by the front door and headed to the kitchen. Grabbing an apple, she took a bite, snagged a bottle of water, and headed towards the game room. It was then she realized her ride had abandoned her. Nevio was the one who always drove her to her lesson. She sought after Alessio hoping to beg him to drive her instead.
Desperate to get to class, Greta cautiously stepped into the game room, her father, her uncles, Luca and Amo sat around discussing business. For the second time today, she appeared in front of her future fiancé and his father while not at all dressed for the occasion. The ladies must have gone out to the gardens because they were nowhere in sight. They all turned to look at her. Amo scanned her body up and down and then gave her a smirk. At this point, she became acutely aware that the big sweatshirt barely covered her butt. Greta felt the heat rise in her cheeks at his gaze. She quickly spoke, "Nevio usually drives me..." she stuttered "um...I have a lesson today."
Savio stood up, looking like he would rather do anything than sit and discuss business, "I'll drive you, Dollface."
At the word, 'dollface' Amo cocked an eyebrow and smirked. He caught Greta's eyes and mouthed 'dollface.' Her cheeks began to burn even redder, so she turned and hurried towards the door. That smirk was really starting to get annoying.
There was no hiding the fact that Greta had grown into a woman. She was taller than the last time Amo saw her, and she had lost the rest of her baby fat in her face, and she had muscle, but not enough to be too much. She was perfect.
When Luca had mentioned marriage to Amo, he pushed it off, not bothering to care about it. Men in his position could afford to wait, and Amo was having too much fun to settle down. He didn't see the point in marrying young. But when his father and mother sat him down and seriously had him think about it, Amo knew he couldn't have just any girl. He had watched his mother over the years. It took grace and toughness to survive as the wife of a Capo.
It was his mother who pushed the idea of Greta. Instantly all the rumors of the "Royal Couple" floated into his mind. As he and Greta had gotten older, more and more people had whispered that they believed this was the only reason Vegas and New York were still peaceful. He shook off the idea remembering the little girl who wanted nothing but to dance. It was when his mother showed him a picture of the girl a few months ago, that he realized she had started to grow up. Seeing her today with his own eyes demonstrated to Amo that the picture didn't even do her justice. She was still too young, and he knew that, but he was ready to make her, his in two short years. He had no reservations she could handle being his wife. She was a Falcone. His mind pulled up images of her dancing in pain while pretending all was fine. The whispers would soon be confirmed, and New York would get the "Royal Couple" so many seemed to think would make them unstoppable.
When the meeting with the Falcones was over the Vitiello's left for their hotel, Amo was slightly disappointed Greta wasn't back before they left. He wanted to see what else might have changed about the young woman since the last time he had seen her. He grinned, thinking about her revulsion when he called her Twinkle Toes and decided he would find more ways to make her blush, being his wife would, of course, knock that trait out of her. He wanted to enjoy it while he could. She still appeared to be shy and quiet, yet put together with subtle confidence. He knew these would be excellent characteristics for his future bride, and yet he wanted to see her let go. Between her father and her brother, she almost didn't stand a chance; she wasn't as unpredictable as she used to be, and all Amo wanted at the moment was to get her riled up. He was even looking more forward to this marriage alliance than he thought he would. After they got to their hotel suite, Amo plopped down on his queen-sized bed and closed his eyes, trying to get some rest.
"Amo, come into the living room. I need to speak with you," He heard his dad call from the other room. Groaning, he rolled off his enticing bed and walked to the couch where his father sat. He guessed that his mother was resting in their bedroom. "Yes, sir?" Amo asked as he sat down.
"Amo, you're going to be engaged this week." Luca paused, but Amo remained silently waiting. He knew his father would get to the point eventually.
"I never would have believed my son would be marrying a Falcone." Amo watched as his father took a deep drink of his scotch.
"Remo has always been a wild card, and it doesn't look like his son will be any fucking better. They say that girl is the only one who can keep Nevio under control, but if today showed us anything, it's that nobody can keep that kid under control." Amo nodded in agreement. He had not anticipated a warm greeting in Vegas, but Nevio could learn to control his emotions better. Though from the stories his father had told him of Remo over the years, it seemed the boy was taking after his father. "At least he was clothed," Amo said, stifling a laugh.
"I've already seen enough of his father, we don't need to see that too," Luca shuddered at the memory, "When he took over Vegas he did away with the traditions that many in our circle's value." Luca ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned back into the couch.
"If you can find a way to pull it off, I need you to get Greta to agree to the bloody sheets tradition and to marry you in New York. She will be your wife and should listen to you. Her father wants the wedding here in fucking, shitty Vegas, and unless you can convince her, this whole idea may be doomed to fail before you even say 'I do.' Falcones have always been stubborn, though, so it might not be easy." Amo nodded in response to his father's request.
"Dad, don't worry. She's gonna be a Vitiello. She will do what I tell her to do."
Luca chuckled, "That's the attitude of a man who hasn't experienced marriage."
"That little girl has sought my attention since we were kids. I'm her perfect fairy tale ending. Haven't you heard we're the Royal Fucking Couple of New York? I'll put on a little charm, and she'll agree to anything I ask."
"Good. I hate the fucking bloody sheets, but even I can't do away with it. Changes have to be introduced subtly, and if we let Remo make his daughter wed in Las Vegas without the sheets, the soldiers won't respect you or accept her as your wife. You must marry at the Vitiello mansion, and there must be blood." Luca emphasized each statement with a slam of his drink filled fist on the coffee table, splashing his scotch around. Amo didn't see what Remo's problem was, it was just a little blood, but he also understood that it was his duty to give his men the right to be at the wedding. She would be a Vitiello. Marrying in New York made sense.
"I'll talk to her as soon as an opportunity arrives. New York will have its 'Royal Wedding,' and the men will get their damn sheets." Luca nodded in approval as he stood up, signaling the end of the conversation. Amo went back to his room and thought about how red Greta would turn when he brought up the bloody sheets tomorrow as he drifted off to sleep.