The Mafia's Blonde Dawn

Though she always had her suspicions, Dawn wasn't aware of the extent of her stepfather's underworld connections until she attended his funeral. As she stood to give her eulogy on behalf of the family, she looked out at the sea of hard-bitten men assembled in Calhoun's great cathedral. She noticed more than a few looking her up and down, no doubt trying to discern her toned cheerleader body through her tasteful black dress. She cleared her throat, tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear, and began.

"Papa Sablone was a pillar to this community, especially among Italian-Americans. Well, this is one Swedish-American who loves him as much as anyone!" There was a murmur of laughter, and she allowed herself a smile.

"For those of you who don't know me, I'm Marianne's daughter, Dawn. When my mother married Guiseppe Sablone, he adopted me, fully, into the family. And I will be forever grateful to him, not least because that means I'm no longer Dawn Uhlgren." Another ripple of laughter at the unfortunate Nordic name. "I loved my father, and Guiseppe never tried to replace him. But he came along and brought life back to my mother, and brought us into his home as part of a new family, with his sons Tony and Marco. Marco and I have grown up together--Tony, I don't know so well, since he left soon after I arrived--but I love them both like brothers."

"Papa Sablone provided for Marco and I like money was no object. Private schools, college, the works. He encouraged me in everything I've done, even cheer-leading, which he didn't seem to understand, but he knew it made me happy." She paused, wiping a tear away. "My... mom and I are heartbroken to lose him so suddenly, and Marco, Marianne and I all appreciate your support so much. Thank you."

The applause started polite, but rose in volume and enthusiasm at the articulate and passionate words of the 20-year old young woman. It was still echoing in her ears as she descended the steps on the side of the stage and was discreetly taken aside by "Uncle Alfredo", a close friend of her stepfather's.

"It was a beautiful speech," he said raspily, pulling her in for a hug, squeezing her chest tightly to his. "You have alot of potential."

"Thanks?" she wheezed, and when he finally released her she noticed his face was grave.

"These are challenging times for our family, bella," he whispered to her. "Without leadership, we are , especially Marco, and you."

"Me?" Dawn asked, blue eyes wide with fear. "Why?"

"Don Sablone's leaves us with a power vacuum, one I fear our enemies will be eager to fill," he explained with a sigh. "With Tony in jail, Marco will be the logical choice to fill Guiseppe's shoes. He is not capable of executing this role, but without someone at the top the Sablone clan will fracture into rivalry, and be picked off. Targeting Marco, or you, or your mother will be a way to establish credibility."

Dawn was having a hard time following this, but nodded anyway. She agreed Marco was no leader; he was a year younger than Dawn, and as he grew into adulthood it was clear that he had some sort of cognitive disability, and probably an undiagnosed mental illness. It was a family secret, hidden behind Marco's apparent love for solitude and study. But this--mafia?--life had been hidden from her, and probably her mother, too. "What can I do?"

"We need to keep unity, and that means the appearance of strength," Uncle Alfredo advised. "Tony should be out of jail in a year, maybe less with good behavior. We need to keep the seat warm for him."

"So... I'd be in charge?"

Alfredo considered it, and chuckled. "A Swedish girl as don? No, impossible. But Marco as interim don, with Guiseppe's legally adopted daughter in control? Conducting meetings, business? This I can see. You are a college girl, smart, articulate, and very charming. Besides, everybody who's anybody is out there, and got a first hand look at the young woman who delivered a message on behalf of the Sablone family!"

Dawn had to admit that the offer excited her. Besides, she always thought she was smarter than the greasy old bugger Guiseppe anyway. She decided she would do it. "What do I need to do first?"