29

Epilogue

Alex

I accept another glass of champagne and down it in a single gulp. From my position against the center pillar, I have a view of the entire reception.

I’m surprised the Tacones went all out on Nico’s wedding, considering what it means to the Pachino family. I guess Junior Tacone worked something out with Don Guiseppe, but it seems like a slap in the face, if you ask me.

Of course, no one asked me.

The wedding is at one of the finest hotels in Chicago—top floor, wall-to-wall windows overlooking the city and Lake Michigan. The bride is sweet—not the type I’d ever guess Nico would go for, but pretty, if you’re into that wholesome blonde kinda thing. Her family came from Michigan—a bunch of nerdy small-town WASPs, with the exception of her maid of honor, a leggy redhead who looks like she could hold her own with any of ours. And, if I’m reading the body language right, she might already be entangled with Nico’s younger brother Stefano.

Nico dances with his mom, his bride with