Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“I need Father’s yacht in four days. You’ll have to spend the next two weeks in our holiday house if you don’t want to return to New York,” I told her.
“I’m touring around the coast of Sardinia. You can’t expect me to return because you decide you need a vacation,” she snapped.
I’d been too lenient with her since Father’s death three weeks ago. “You will do as I say, Nina. I am Capo now and you’d better remember that I am my father’s son, or have you forgotten what I’m capable of?”
Silence. I didn’t like hurting women, but shortly after she’d married my father I caught her hitting Matteo. I was only ten but already as tall as her and stronger. I grabbed her by the throat, and perhaps I wouldn’t have let go if Father hadn’t come in that moment. Nina saw it in my eyes then that I was a killer. Father had beaten her to within an inch of her life for touching his sons, even when he tortured Matteo and me all the time to make us stronger. One year later I killed my first man, and six years after that I crushed my cousin’s throat like I’d wanted to crush Nina’s when she’d hurt my brother, and she knew.
“How can you ask me to return when you know I’m still grieving?” She added that annoying vibrato to her voice as if she was on the verge of tears, which we both knew she wasn’t.
“Don’t lie to me,” I hissed. “You hated my father as much as I did. You wanted to kill him yourself so don’t pretend you’re sad he’s gone. And don’t pretend you don’t let some jailbait skipper fuck your brains out on Father’s fucking yacht.”
Nina cleared her throat. Did she think I didn’t have contacts in Sicily? My great uncle was Capo of the Famiglia there, and of course one of his men kept watch over her for me. I’d seen photos of her with the twenty-year-old skipper, and what they’d been doing on deck didn’t look anything like grieving. She was only in her mid-thirties since she was forced to marry my father when she was only nineteen, and I didn’t give a fuck if she screwed around as long as it didn’t cause me problems. “And Nina, I’m Capo, I could decide you have to marry again. There are enough men in my ranks who have the same disposition as my father.”
She sucked in a breath. I had no intention of marrying her off to someone else. No matter how much I despised her, she’d suffered enough under my father’s rule.
“You can have the yacht but I won’t come back to New York,” she said quietly.
“For all I care you can move to Italy, Nina. I don’t miss you, trust me.” Before I hung up, I added. “And have someone clean every inch of the yacht. I don’t want to find any traces of your fucking anywhere, understood?”
She gasped, but I didn’t wait for her reply.
After the call with Nina, I was in need of that fucking vacation but first I’d have to survive a meeting with the Underbosses of the Famiglia, two of whom were my uncles, and two the husbands of my aunts. I headed out of my office and to the very last door in the back of the Sphere.
I stepped inside. Everyone was already gathered around the oval wooden table. Matteo’s expression didn’t bode well. It was good I joined them or he’d soon have killed someone.
The men got up, even Matteo, because he knew how to keep up appearances even if he never treated me like a Capo when we were alone—but Uncle Gottardo took his sweet-ass time rising from his chair, probably his way of showing me that he didn’t respect me.
I indicated for them to sit back down as I let my gaze wander over them. There was Uncle Ermano, my father’s youngest brother, who was Underboss of Atlanta, and my uncle Gottardo who ruled over Washington DC in my name. Across from them sat Uncle Durant, who ruled over Pittsburgh and was the husband of my aunt Crimella, and next to him sat Uncle Felix, husband of Aunt Egidia and Underboss of Baltimore. The Underbosses who ruled over Charleston, Norfolk, Boston and Philadelphia weren’t related to me, at least not close enough to be considered family. All the men were in their late forties to late sixties, except for Matteo and me. My uncles thought I was too young to be Capo. They didn’t say it outright but I knew it from the looks they shared, from the occasional challenging comment.
“There’s a lot for us to discuss. I know this is only our second meeting and you have to get used to my way of dealing with things, but I’m sure we can control the Russian threat if we work together as one.”