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I don’t trust Sonny either and can see him scheming, thinking the throne belongs to him after my father’s death. I’ve even considered using my knowledge of his shellfish allergy to my advantage and slipping seafood into his favorite lasagna to kill the motherfucker. We can’t accuse him of shit without evidence, and we damn sure can’t kill him without my father’s permission.
“Come on, Antonio,” Vinny groans. “Everyone knows Father is getting too old.”
“He’s of sound mind.”
Fuck Vinny for even questioning him.
I want to punch him in the face just for that.
“For how long? What are we on now? Stroke number two?” He holds up three fingers. “Or is it three?”
“Sonny won’t do shit,” I assure him. “He’s not stupid.”
At least while our father is still alive.
If worse comes to worst, I’ll kill him myself if I have to and deal with the consequences.
We might share blood, but blood is easy to drain from someone.
TWO MONTHS LATER
The next time I see Gigi again is at a local festival.
I’m sitting at a picnic table when I spot her walking with Natalia and Bruno. As I watch her, the temptation to follow them is strong. Amara is with me, so I can’t. I’ll have to wait until later to drag Gigi away.
Amara swings her legs back and forth while shoving a snow cone in my direction. “You want some, Daddy?” Blue juice drips down her chin.
“All yours, sweetheart.” I pull a napkin from the holder and lean across the table to wipe her chin, only for more to drop moments later.
When she finishes her snow cone, I clean off her face again. Then Clara, Damien, and I hang around the festival for another hour before heading toward the exit. People step to the other side of the pathway when they see me. A few nod their heads respectfully while others avoid eye contact.
“I just love our friendship bracelets,” Amara says, proudly holding up her arm to show off the new bracelet hanging from her wrist.
Earlier, we stopped at a small vendor’s tent selling beaded bracelets, and Amara chose one for all of us.
Her beads spell outBest Daughter Ever.
Mine saysGirl Dad.
Clara’s isPretty Grandma.
And she giggled up a storm while handing Damien his, which spelled outCoolest Dude Ever.
I lift our clasped hands to show mine off. “I think it’s my favorite piece of jewelry.”
She stares innocently from my bracelet to the Rolex above it. “More favorite than your watch?”
“Ten times more favorite.”
She nearly loses her footing when stopping beside a trash can. “How about you throw away your watch? That way, the bracelet will be the only thing on your wrist.”
Damien snorts behind me while carrying the goldfish Amara won in a game.
Leave it to my daughter to call my fucking bluff. As much as I love her, she just requested I toss a fifty-thousand-dollar watch in the grimy-ass trash can.
Amara stares at me in expectation.
I kneel to her level and switch my watch from one wrist to the other. “There. That better?”
