“Catastrophic,” his father corrected.
Joey waved him off. “The fact is, things are going to the shitter—Owe!”
Giuseppe smacked his prodigy upside the head. “Don’t you wave me off, junior. When I’m talkin’ to you, you listen.”
Joey rubbed his head and glowered.
Fuck…. I missed this.
It was good to beback.
But the bigger question loomed in the distance, rumbling like the storm cloud it was. My grandfather and father hadn’t seen eye-to-eye, and the don and I sure as hell didn’t either. Yet these men were looking to me as their savoir.
“You’ve got a hunger in your eye, kid,” Giuseppe pushed, rubbing his hands together. “Mind sharing your plans?”
I worked my jaw back and forth. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you with them—because I do. With my life, probably my soul. Right now, I don’t have a clear idea how to proceed.”
“But you coming back means you’ll take over the family business?” Giuseppe insisted.
I shot him a hard look. “You’re talking treason.”
The old man shrugged. “It’s only treason if my side doesn’t win.”
“I can’t make any outright moves against the don,” I kept my voice low as I answered.
The burly cook didn’t do the same. “If you don’t do something soon, there might not be a throne for you to take.”
His sons nodded in agreement.
“Things have gone from bad to worse,” Joey muttered, shooting his dad a side glance.
“The don’s policies aren’t good for business,” Emanuelle agreed.
I groaned. There was too much to fix, and not enough time to do it. “It won’t be easy. I’ll start small.”
Giuseppe nodded. “Your fuckin’ cousins are gonna be swarming like wasps, ready to sting. They thought with you outta the picture, it was time to impress your nonno. The fact that he hasn’t let one of them date that little princess he has holed up in his castle means he’s been waiting. Waiting for you, I think.”
“I’ll give up my claim before I marry that girl,” I bit out.
Giuseppe gestured with both hands. “Why? Good looking gal, nice Catholic upbringing. What more can you want?”
The sons hummed in agreement with their father. It was no doubt painfully clear to them. Leading the family was the prize. Arabella was just a small price to pay.
But the thought of touching her made me sick.
Voicing that would be a mistake. So would the admission that I didn’t feel ready, didn’t feel qualified for the job dear old nonno was pushing me toward. My father was supposed to be alive; he was supposed to rule. My turn wouldn’t come into question until I was at least fifty.
Yet these men—and by default the soldiers inside—saw me as the natural leader.
“Nah, she’s just young,” I brushed off the topic. “What job you working tonight, boys?”
“I’m working a shift down at the casino. Bouncer.” Which was code for muscle and enforcer.
I turned from Emanuele. Joey was on a shipment detail. But Luigi saved the best for last.
“There’s some pesky sausage eaters who’ve been snooping around one of our warehouses. Me and a couple of guys are gonna chase ‘em out, maybe catch a few too.”
“Count me in.” I clapped his shoulder.
