Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I might still get questions, but the guys would be easier to brush off. They weren’t the type to pry.
“Starting to think you fell off the face of the fucking earth,” Cosimo said as he climbed out of his car at the curb as I walked up.
A quick glance showed Miko’s little brother, Nero, at the wheel. Doing grunt work as punishment. Miko, surprisingly, climbed out of the front and made his way up the steps, leaving us alone to talk.
“Been busy.”
“Busy, huh?” Cosimo asked, lips twitching. “So, should I tell Ma that you aren’t coming to dinner because you’re balls deep in the new girl she still hasn’t met yet, or…”
“Fuck off,” I said, shaking my head.
“I get it,” he said, shrugging. “It’s nice when it’s… private,” he said. “But you gotta at least let Ma meet her. Even if you just go out to brunch or some shit,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, knowing my ma’s feelings were likely hurt, and not liking being the source of that.
“A redhead, huh?” he asked, nodding.
“Yeah.”
“She as pretty as Giana’s been saying?”
“Prettier,” I said. Because no matter how gorgeous Giana might have said she was, she was more beautiful than that.
“And she’s not completely turned off by your surly-ass personality?” Cosimo asked.
“She thinks it’s… amusing,” I told him, thinking of how her head would cock and her lips would twitch when I said something that was grumpier than she thought was necessary. Definitely amusement.
“Shit, man. Get a ring on her finger. ‘Cause you’re never gonna find someone else who thinks you being a dick is charming.”
The ribbing stopped as we made our way up the steps, already hearing the racket of a dozen or more men gathered inside, having multiple conversations. And because we were all Italian, yeah, no one spoke in normal tones. Like everyone was battling to be heard over everyone else.
“You know what this is about?” I asked.
“I have my suspicions,” Cosimo said, posture suddenly going tight.
But before I could press him for details, someone was calling him over, needing to talk to him about something.
My gaze scanned the room, seeing a few people trying to catch my attention. I pretended not to see, weaving through the crowd, and making my way to the kitchen, where I found Miko pouring fresh coffee into an oversized carafe, then starting to make another pot.
“Go ahead, there’s plenty in there already,” he said, waving toward the stack of paper coffee cups. “Never got a chance to thank you for getting my cross back to me so quick,” he said. “Got a lot of sentimental value,” he added.
“Figured,” I agreed, holding down the button for the tap on the carafe, filling my cup.
“Know my brother still hasn’t kicked up what he owes you,” Miko said, giving me a tight nod, the tension clear in his features. Like this incident with the two dead bodies had caused a larger riff than seemed necessary.
That said, Miko was hungry. To rise up in the organization. To eventually get his own crew. To make a name and future for himself.
And having a little brother who you’d vouched for fucking up so royally so early on must have been putting a crimp in his plans.
“I’m not worried about it,” I said. “That was Lorenzo’s punishment, not mine.”
“It’s the point,” Miko insisted, turning the fresh pot on, then watching it drip.
“You want me to lean on him, I’ll do it,” I offered. “Everyone knows I’m a dick when I want to be. I don’t give a fuck about the money, but if he’s giving you a hard time…”
“Yeah, actually,” Miko said, nodding. “He knows Cosimo too well at this point to be too intimidated. But if you want to darken his door and put the fear of God in him, I wouldn’t be mad.”
“Got it,” I said, toasting him with my coffee, then making my way back out of the kitchen as Emilio tried to get people to shut the fuck up, so he could instruct them where he wanted them.
In the end, it wasn’t actually Emilio who got everyone to shut up. But his brother, Anthony, who, standing completely still in the dining room, somehow had his usual string of bad luck strike… as the goddamn chandelier came hurtling down, crashing into his shoulder.
“Fucking Christ,” Ant hissed, reaching to grab his shoulder as the chandelier slammed to the ground, the bulbs breaking.
“Yeah, that seems fitting tonight,” Lorenzo said, walking up to Ant. “You alright? Need Salvatore to take a look at it?”
“It’s alright,” Ant said, seeming more flustered than hurt, but when everyone looked away from him, he rubbed the spot, face contorted in pain.
Dunno what the fuck he did in a past life to get his kind of rotten luck, but he was definitely paying his karma back in this lifetime.