Sicily had an old custom. When a daughter of one of the families turned 18, she designed a piece of jewelry herself, and on Christmas Day it was sent to New York to be auctioned.Whoever outbid the whole room for it would be the man she married.For years, Sicily had held on to the last of its old glory through that ritual.I designed a pair of diamond cufflinks set with the letter L for Luca Moretti, my childhood friend, who had just moved to New York. But Vincent DeLuca, the Don, won them.Vincent said he hadn't known who they were meant for. He'd simply fallen for me at first sight.Everyone said marrying Vincent had saved me. The Bellini family was barely hanging on, while the DeLuca family ran the busiest ports and casinos on the East Coast and never had to do its own dirty work.After the wedding, Vincent was wonderful to me.When I first got to New York, people made fun of my Sicilian accent. So Vincent taught himself Italian, and after that, nobody dared laugh.No matter how la
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