The Capo’s Sacrificed Wife
The annual Family dinner was in full swing, the clink of glasses and hum of conversation filling the air.
Paige, never one for a kind word, stumbled over, a glass of wine in her hand, her breath reeking of cheap booze.
"You know," she said, a sly, knowing grin on her face, "I used to be jealous as hell of you. He's a Capo. He runs a whole borough."
"A lot of good that's done you, huh? Still stuck in the slums, where gunshots are your nightly lullaby."
I heard the mockery in her voice. The list for the Family's secure compound was out, and once again, my name wasn't on it.
I held my own glass, my voice steady. "They're Family rules. Not even Dean can break them. A Capo's wife still has to toe the line."
She let out a sudden, sharp laugh.
"Five years ago, when the first group moved, your name was at the very top of the list! Dean crossed it off himself. Five years in a row, all to build that pristine reputation of his..."
Before she could finish, one of the dock enforcers nearby clamped his hand over her mouth.
I glanced around the room. The men and women who had been flirting and laughing just moments before now avoided my gaze.
Only Dean remained as he was, sitting ramrod straight, not a flicker of shame on his face.
He held a half-smoked cigar between his teeth, his voice low and gravelly. "What she said is true. I approved the placements for the compound."
"They're for the widows of our brothers who bled and died for this Family. They need a safe place more than you do."
"Let others fight and claw for survival. You are my woman. A Capo's wife. You have to understand what it means to see the bigger picture."
I smiled, but tears streamed down my face.
So that was it.
So, does our son have to be an orphan on paper, the child of a fallen hero, to finally get a private doctor and a safe home?