Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Romeo, there you are!” my father greets excitedly, and my brows furrow. He used to do the exact same thing to Kieran, never me. I’m simply a replacement of my older brother and I don’t just think it, I know it.
“Father,” I reply in greeting, his bowler shirt hideous as ever, and the light above revealing his thinning hair. Unbuttoning my jacket, I take a seat in a black velvet chair and try not to think about what devious sex acts have been done in it.
“You son of a bitch!” Gio laughs, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he points to my dad who is scraping all the chips to his chest from across the table, ashes falling onto his suit. He chuckles, completely amused that he won. Again. Kieran always beats him in poker, so I know he’s not that good, in fact, I’m pretty sure my uncles just let him win.
Father sits back in his chair, a woman with a black silk see-through robe comes from behind the curtain, her blonde hair sitting on top of her head in a pile of delicious curls. Without saying a word she fills my uncles’ cups with a decanter of whiskey, her eyes cast down while she pours.
“You want something? Anything?” Father points his chubby finger at me, acting as if I’m his VIP. “Georgia here will get it for you,” he continues before looking up at the tall beauty. “This is my son,” he informs her, and her eyes cast my way.
“He looks like you,” she says softly, and I lift my right eyebrow. It’s apparent my father has everyone wrapped around his finger, but not out of respect; it’s out of fear.
“I’m good,” I reply callously, ready for whatever my father has to say, to be said.
She says something to my dad that has him laughing under his breath, before she leaves the room. I’m sure he’s fucking her, but as a man in his crew, it’s my job to look my mother in the eye and assume otherwise.
“Have you talked to Kieran?” he finally asks before taking a sip of his drink.
I don’t reply, it’s none of his business and if I know my father, which I do, any answer I give him won’t be the right one. “Well, I just assume you don’t. He’s a liar, betrayed his own blood, and cannot be trusted. He is the enemy, and dead to me as far as I’m concerned.” His tone of voice holding a sharpness that reminds me of only a sword. One that has been through fire and flames of treachery and is glowing the color orange. I bite my tongue, keeping from reminding my father that he tried to have him and Leona killed. I’m not surprised Kieran fought back with a power so bold that even I can’t follow his footsteps.
Sitting forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and rub my palms together anxiously.
“Why am I here?”
“You want the kid to take the position, don’t ya?” Gio asks, and my father’s eyes squint as he sizes me up. I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to see, he knows who I am, knows my weaknesses and strengths better than anyone. My eyes slip to Gio, his pink tie strikingly bright against his Armani suit, but he looks good compared to the rest of these chuckleheads. He wouldn’t have asked my father that if they hadn’t already talked about me taking the position. Father is fucking with me. Making me out to be lesser of a man than others that are up for the job.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, rubbing his chin. Grinding my teeth, I fight the annoyance biting at my tongue. I can’t help but curse fucking Kieran leaving me behind to deal with this shit. Nice, he had me come to this shithole just so he could tell me he’s unsure of my placement in his world. He could have saved me the cab fee and told me that over the phone.
“Power isn’t just handed to someone, it’s something that is earned through years of loyalty and hardships. I don’t expect you to hand me the title of underboss simply because I’m your son, nor do I want it.” I stand, buttoning my jacket. “I seek more. I may have my dark moments but I want a throne where kindness isn’t a weakness which is not in the mafia. I show respect even if people don’t deserve it, and this shouldn’t make you question my character, if anything… it’s a reflection of the man you are.”
He stands, slamming his fist on the table. Chips scatter, cards falling to the floor.
“You do not talk to me that way!” he roars, and I tilt my head to the side at his tantrum. “I’ve killed men for saying lesser to me.”