The Betas: René

PrologueBrides’s Room Don (Dante) Ferone’s Restaurant Mulberry Street, Little Italy, Manhattan Spring 1994 Frankie Fitzgerald and his mother were alone in the Bride’s Room. She stood in front of the mirror, dreamy-eyed, adjusting her veil. “I don’t understand, Mom. Why are you marrying this man? He’s a gangster.” “What are you talking about, Frankie? Dante Ferone is a good man. He’s no gangster, he loves me very much. What gangster adopts another man’s child? Dante wants to be your father,” Brigit Fitzgerald told her son. “He’s not my father. You’re marrying this man before Dad’s body is even cold.” “Dante was your father’s friend and took care of us when your dad died.” His mother turned huffy. She frowned and tightened her lips. “Where did you ever hear a nasty expression like that?” “The neighbors are talking. I overheard Mrs. Richards, next door.” “Mrs. Richards knows nothing. I told you, Dante loves me. You should be happy that someone loves me and wants to take care of us.” “He runs the mob…” “Nonsense, you’ve been listening to that old biddy. Mrs. Richards has no idea what she’s talking about. Dante is a well-respected businessman who imports olive oil from Italy and Spain and owns this restaurant.” Frankie shook his head. “Mom, get your head out of the clouds. If he’s legit, why does he have those goons constantly around him?” “What did I tell you about lazy English? Legit indeed, and shame on you. Those men are his bodyguards, not goons. He explained that to us. Dante needs to be careful. He’s a very wealthy man, and there is a constant danger of kidnapping.” “You believe that…you actually believe that…” Frankie took a deep breath and clenched his fists. His mother grasped his shoulders. “Hush now. Dante loves us both. Why would he want to make you his son, if he didn’t love you? After all, he doesn’t have to adopt you. He wants to be your father.” Despite his respect for his mother, Frankie’s voice turned cold. “I had a father. He died in Bosnia. I don’t need another one.” “I don’t understand you. Dante has been nothing but good to you.” He stiffened. “I’m gay. Have you told my new stepfather that yet? My father was a soldier, and he didn’t mind.” “No, I haven’t told him yet, but…” A twenty-pound weight settled in Frankie’s stomach. * * * * Harvard Graduation May 2007 Other families with graduates in full regalia streamed past Frankie and his mother as they walked away from Tercentenary Theatre to the special commencement parking area. Frankie had just received his MBA and made a speech as valedictorian of his graduating class. He had maintained a perfect grade point average. Despite his laudable achievement, he frowned at his stepfather. Dante took Frankie’s seven-year-old brother by the hand and traveled on ahead to pull the car up closer to the commencement area. His mother’s arthritis pained her and it was difficult for her to walk too far. Her RA had been triggered by her pregnancy and in the intervening years had only gotten worse. Frankie was grateful that for once, Dante’s goons hadn’t accompanied them. Dante Ferone had wanted this to be an intimate family experience for his wife, so they’d gone incognito. Frankie complained to his mother, “I’ve applied for jobs all over Manhattan. I have a four-point-oh average, letters of recommendation from all my professors, and I barely got an internship. No one will hire me, Mom, because I’m Dante Ferone’s stepson.” “Silly, of course you have someone to hire you…your father wants you to come and work for him. He has a position as his financial assistant for you. After all he’s done for you, it’s time to help him out. He says his personal assets are a mess, and he needs someone who knows what he’s doing to take charge of them. He decided to ask you.” Frankie’s lips tightened. “Dante probably wants to hire me because of you and not my abilities. He doesn’t want his gay stepson constantly under his nose.” Frankie sounded bitter, even to his own ears. His mother shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. Dante has offered you every accommodation.” “What’s wrong with me is he’s not my father,” Frankie rasped. “He adopted you. That makes him your father in every sense but biological. Now he’s offering you a job when you can’t get one anywhere else. If you had that attitude when you went on interviews, it’s no wonder no one would hire you.” His mother pursed her lips then she sighed and patted his shoulder. “I know you two didn’t get along while you were a teen. Now you’re a grownup. Give him a chance. Go and work for Dante for a little while. He’ll give you a sterling recommendation, and he has an excellent reputation in the business community. By helping Dante, you secure your and your brother’s legacy. After working for your father for a little while, you’ll get a letter of recommendation with his signature. After that, you can find another job or, who knows,” his mother smiled, “you might like working for your father.” She doesn’t have a clue, Frankie thought, but she’s my mother. I love her. I can’t destroy her world by making her take off the rose-colored glasses. She loves this man, and he obviously loves her, or else he’d cut me loose. “Honey, would it be so bad for you to stay local and work for your father, so I could see you more often than I have since you went to Harvard?” Frankie took a deep breath. I’m not going to win this one. “I suppose not, but I want to get my own apartment. I’m not going to be a monk. I want to date, and I’m sure Dante doesn’t want an orchestra seat for that play.” “Don’t be that way. Dante isn’t prejudiced. He took me to see Rent.” “I give up.” Frankie rolled his eyes. “All right I’ll go to work for Dante, but I insist on living in my own space. I’ve been on my own for the last six years, except for vacations. I even took classes during the summer. I’m not coming home to have my life monitored by my mother, and he’s not my father.” They reached the curb, Dante pulled up in the Caddy, and the discussion was tabled. Later on that day, at the graduation party Dante threw for him, his stepfather took him aside to talk. “I didn’t pay for your education to have you take all that expertise somewhere else. Give me ten years, and I’ll consider us even. But you will not flaunt your sexuality in my or my men’s faces.” Frankie, aware of how much money Dante had spent on his education, and having no way of paying him back, had to agree. Despair threatened to drown him. * * * * Present Day Eight days before the Julien, Richard, Henri, and Vitas Reception Frankie answered his cell. “Julien? What can I do for you?” “…and Vitas is in mortal danger. Henri’s people are in Alaska, and it will take at least eighteen hours to get them here. If the other men on the Board of Directors send their security to Henri, that leaves them vulnerable to the same mad Russian. Henri will gladly pay you and your men to cover his house.” “You’re a friend, I don’t charge friends. Call Henri and tell him my men will be there within the hour.” The back of Frankie’s neck prickled. Julien wouldn’t ask unless the situation was dire. Frankie had a feeling that there was more to this request than a simple job. He made some calls.