Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Sofia stares out the window, ignoring me. I know I’ve gone too far. I’m on edge, far too close to my emotions, and far too aggressive, which is another reason I should avoid Bella. If thinking about her learning the truth makes me act like this, I need to quit her now.
After a few minutes, Sofia takes out her phone. My body stirs when I hear Bella’s voice. “Hey, Bella baes, today we’re going to be playing …” I do my best to tune out the voice, but at a red light, I glance over. I assumed the video would be the same one she sent me, but it’s not. In this one—the public video—Bella is wearing jeans and a hoodie.
Does that mean she recorded that other one in the hot-as-hell outfit just for me? My mind flits to her choosing the outfit, maybe with a pout on her lips as she stripped off the hoodie, perhaps even purposefully taking off her bra, knowing I couldn’t resist staring at and obsessing over her body.
“When can I book my next lesson?” Sofia asks.
“Whenever you want,” I reply, “but depending on how busy I am, Elio or somebody else will take you.”
“I can go on my own, you know.”
I look at her, and that’s all she needs. She sighs.
“I thought all that stuff was over.”
That stuff means the Gallo war. She never learned the specifics but understands what she needs to, so she’s not surprised if something happens.
“You’re safe,” I tell her. “Always, Sofia. Never forget that.”
“I’d rather be normal than safe.”
“There was never any chance of us being normal,” I tell her. “When you’re born into the Family, any notion of being a regular person dies. It’s better just to accept that.”
“What a lovely, optimistic way to look at things.”
“It’s the truth. I don’t have space for optimism.”
“You really are in a mood, aren’t you?”
Reaching over, I gently touch her hand. Bella has just begun to play the musical piece in the video. It’s not as wild and passionate as the video she sent me. Was I the one who brought that out in her?
“I’m going to text her and book another session for tomorrow,” Sofia goes on when I don’t reply.
“Okay.”
“Please don’t bring the Mafia stuff into this, Matty. Please.”
I sigh. “Next time I take a call, I’ll go into the stairwell, okay?”
“Thank you. Really.” She pauses, then her tone gets just a bit playful. “Any chance of a smile?”
As we pull up at another red light, I turn to her, baring my teeth like a wild animal. “How’s that?” I say, keeping the rictus fixed in place.
She giggles. “Much better.”
“What the fuck is this?” I growl as I walk into the basement of one of our clubs.
We have a police-style interview room set up down here, soundproofed with one-way glass. Elio stands behind the glass, hands in his pockets. I walk up next to him and look at the man handcuffed to the table. He’s sipping out of a paper cup and looks suspiciously unharmed.
When Elio looks at me, I can tell immediately he’s ready to take a stand. Years of operating with my brother have taught me that.
“We can’t beat, maim, and mutilate our way out of everything.”
“We can’t?” I snarl.
“Just listen, bro. Fucking hell.”
It’s just the two of us, so he’s free to speak to me like this.
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “I’m listening.”
Elio runs a hand through his wild hair. “I had two of our men pick him up, dressed as cops. They put a bag over his head and brought him here. As far as he knows, he’s waiting for the investigating officer. He was whining about his family and threats. Why don’t we use this to our advantage? Wouldn’t it be better to have an inside man than just another corpse?”
When I don’t reply, Elio steps forward, staring at me. “As your consigliere, it’s my job to tell you when you’ve lost perspective.”
A petty piece of me is tempted to tell him to go to hell, but he’s right. Whether or not I want to admit it, he is. “Hmm …”
“I’m telling you now,” he says. “We can’t play this just with violence. I know you’re pissed. I know you thought it was over.” He pauses, his voice getting husky with emotion. “I know we both made a promise to our old man. After Mom passed, he was never the same, was he? The city became his love; the Family became his only purpose. We both want to keep that promise. Believe me.”
“I do,” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly. “After all the work he put in and the sacrifices he made, he deserves that.”
“So listen, then. Please.”
Elio DeLuca wouldn’t say please to any other man. Even if he needed to and it would be the best thing to do, our position as Don and consigliere would make it impossible. Yet, with each other, we can be honest.