Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
You had to be vigilant about your surroundings.
Which was why I was keeping one eye on the unhoused man who seemed to be watching me and a small cluster of young men who were probably not up to anything productive standing around after three a.m.
Once I passed them, though, it seemed like everyone was tucked in for the night.
Or so I thought.
Until I rounded a corner that would eventually lead to my apartment building and heard a strange, muffled, pop-pop-pop sound.
It was oddly familiar, like something I’d heard before, but just couldn’t quite place.
Not until, of course, I felt something pierce into me.
Once.
Twice.
Then I knew the sound.
A gun.
Because bullets were now lodged in my body.
CHAPTER TWO
Salvatore
“The legend!” Cesare said as he walked into the brownstone, his arms wide, as if we were the oldest of friends.
When I got pinched, Cesare was probably a kid just like Lorenzo, Emilio, Santi, and Brio had been.
When I got out, he’d been pushed out of the city thanks to some beef he got into with the Lombardi Family, a rival of ours. He’d, apparently, fucked a Lombardi wife, which got a hit put on his head.
The only reason he was allowed back was because that particular Lombardi capo had been caught talking to the Feds. Somehow, Lorenzo—the boss of all bosses—had managed to agree to a deal.
Cesare could come back from Maine.
But only if he took out the man who was talking to the Feds.
From what I heard, he hadn’t found the rat yet. But he was looking, that was for sure.
“Cesare, how you been?” I asked, going in for the hug because that was just what you did, even if it was distant family.
“Turning over rocks looking for a rat,” he said, stepping back. “Looks like we’re getting paired up on a job.”
“Seems that way,” I agreed, nodding.
No one got summoned to the boss’s house after midnight unless there was a pressing situation that needed handling. And, typically, the permanent kind of handling.
I didn’t know a whole lot about Cesare, but I did know that he single-handedly ran things at one of our docks up in Maine, which meant he had to have a lot of guts and an ability to handle problems on his own without any assistance.
That was a good man to have doing a job with you.
Sure, the likes of Brio were the more obvious choice, but he was also not known for his self-control. Or, well, sanity. I preferred a more careful and detached partner for jobs.
“Hope you two got some coffee in you,” Emilio said as he led us into the dining room where Lorenzo—the capo die capi—was waiting for us. “It might be a long night,” he added, taking his seat.
“Hey guys,” Lorenzo said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What’s going on, man?” Cesare asked, looking over at his cousin. Second cousin? Third? Who knew. It didn’t exactly matter. Family was family.
“We tracked down the crew who jacked our shipment last month,” Lorenzo said, his head going up to the ceiling where a baby was letting out the beginnings of a cry.
“The Lewis Crew. Apparently, the stupid fucks were going around bragging about it,” Emilio piped in, making everyone’s brows raise. Everyone but the boss, whose face went dark.
It seemed that, during Lorenzo’s father’s reign as capo dei capi, the respect for the mafia had clearly taken a bit of a nosedive. More so than I realized, what with being locked up and all.
On the inside, bosses still got a shitton of respect. They didn’t exactly run the whole prison system anymore, but they damn sure had their fair share.
So it was always a bit of a shock since I got out to realize that the world had sort of forgotten about the mafia. Or believed it no longer existed, or had the same authority it used to.
You heard a lot more these days about gangs, cartels, and even the skinhead organizations. And, sure, they were a force to be reckoned with, even for us.
But Lorenzo had brought the mafia back from the brink of death. This generation was going to be the one to restore the glory to the Family.
I guess it bugged me that not everyone could see how many strides he’d taken already, how much shit he’d cleared up, how much money he’d made.
From the looks of things, it bugged Lorenzo too.
He didn’t work so fucking hard to be disrespected by some two-bit crew that was too stupid to know that shit had changed in the criminal world since he took power.
“Are we giving them a talk or making them an example?” I asked, watching as Lorenzo’s gaze lifted to mine.
I knew the answer before he even said it.
“Example. You know what that means better than most,” he said, giving me a nod. “Excuse me. I need to go help her,” he said as the baby’s cries became shrieks. “Emilio will answer any questions,” he added as he rushed out of the room and ran up the stairs.