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“Remo, your eldest son showed up on my doorstep today. Did you send him to help us?”

Of course, Nevio would go there. The Camorra in Campania was at war on several fronts. This was the perfect place for someone like my son.

The black sheep of the family.

Maybe every fucking family had one. Maybe some would consider Nevio our black sheep. Maybe he did too.

It was bullshit. The Falcone family was a herd of black sheep, with a few gray and even fewer white ones in between. Nevio thought he was the wolf in sheep’s clothing, a risk to us, but he wasn’t. He could fit in if he really tried, but he didn’t want to.

He chose the excitement of a war-torn Camorra over the responsibilities piling up in Las Vegas. And I would tell him exactly that once I saw him in Campania. I’d boarded a flight to Naples two days after I’d found out about Battista and Nevio’s flight.

Naples was where the head of the Camorra in Italy had resided for over a century and where the majority of their business was still conducted, but Alvize, the over seventy-year-old Capo, was hiding away in an estate in the countryside in Campania, and Nevio was there right now.

I was angry.

Fucking furious.

I hadn’t been to Italy, and the Camorra there in a long time. I didn’t see a reason too. Sure, it was where my ancestors had once come from. But the Camorra in Italy right now was a mess, fighting among each other, struggling with the Italian police and Europol. It was a cesspool of intrigue and envy.

They hadn’t given us a second glance when the Camorra in the US had been struggling and weak. Now that we were strong, stronger than they could even dream of right now, they came running, hoping for help, hoping for money. Fuck them.

And still I was heading there now. To kick my son’s ass. The son who had a son himself.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

I had never felt ready to become a father, but the moment Greta and Nevio had entered my life, I had been. I had taken responsibility by the balls.

Nevio had run. He was younger than me when I’d been thrown into fatherhood, but not by much. He was less controlled, and what really mattered was that he didn’t have the boy’s mother at his side.

Serafina had been a lioness of a mother. She had been a shining beacon. I’d admired her for it and had wanted to be an equally worthy parent. Battista’s mother was a bitch who abandoned him.

I’d already taken care of my brothers, had fought for a territory and won. I’d lacked control, true, but I’d been better at channeling my violence because years of responsibility had taught me to do so.

Nevio had always had the freedom to follow his violent desires and live them as freely as our lifestyle allowed.

Maybe I should have forced him to restrain himself, giving him more responsibilities and a purpose.

Becoming Capo was in his future, but it was too far off for him to hold on to as an incentive to become a more restrained version of himself.

I didn’t text Serafina or Aurora the outcome of my conversation with Nevio. This was something that needed to be said in person.

Of course, words weren’t needed when I entered the mansion without Nevio by my side. My face was probably a dead giveaway too. I felt like exploding.

Serafina closed her eyes, but when she opened them, a new resoluteness entered her expression. “Our main concern should be Battista right now. He needs a family and love.” She and Kiara exchanged a look, motherly concern filling their faces. What neither of them probably noticed was how Aurora’s arms tightened around the boy.

I wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to help Nevio with a task like this, but from the way the little boy sought her closeness, she’d done a good job.

“What are your thoughts on the matter, Aurora?” I asked. It was strange to think that after meeting my children several months after their birth due to the circumstances, the same thing now happened with my grandchild too. Fuck. I never thought I’d be a grandfather at my age. I really wanted to kick Nevio’s fucking ass.

Surprise crossed Aurora’s face. She swallowed and squared her shoulders. “Battista has lost his main attachment figure only two months ago and had to get used to me and Nevio as his new caregivers. Now Nevio left too. I don’t want Battista to lose another person in his life. Right now, I’m the only one he is attached to, so taking that from him would be cruel.”

I seriously doubted the kid’s mother had been any kind of attachment figure. If anything, she’d probably caused the kid attachment issues for life. He was better off without her.

But fuck Nevio for not being up to the task of being what the boy needed.

“Do I understand correctly that you want to keep caring for the boy for now?”

Fabiano walked back and forth in the room, his face on the verge of an outburst. I got it. He must be pissed about the situation. His eyes slanted to me, and I could see the same anger in them as five days before. I couldn’t blame him. Nino and I had kept things from him, important information about his daughter. I was glad he hadn’t packed his bags yet. That he was still here and willing to work on a solution for a fucking nightmare of a situation showed how loyal he was.

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