“It is. Make sure we look after the families of the men who died today.”
“Consider it done, sir,” Lune replies.
“Reacher, load up the bodies and take them to the oven.”
“On it,” he answers.
In a few days, after a meeting with my men, I’ll fly to Italy. My son is two and a half now. I still can’t believe she planned to put him up for adoption, never letting me see him. Did she really intend to avoid a paternity test forever? Maybe she always knew Madden was mine. I have to own my part—tampering with her birth control before realizing she didn’t want children. Deep down, I knew, but I pressed my desires onto her. Will I ever forgive her for stealing our son?
No.
Two hours later, I arrive at my secret condo in Newark, Delaware. I spent so much time here during the war that buying the entire building made sense—a place to finally rest my head. I slide the key into the lock and step inside.
“Nico, you’re home,” she calls out from the sofa across the spacious room.
Her silky red hair is piled high, and the short champagne-colored robe clings to her tiny frame, revealing everything.
“Come here.” She stretches her arms toward me.
“I need a shower first.”
Her porcelain face brightens. “When you’re done, I’ll give you a massage.”
I grin. “I’d like that.”
Not sure why she sticks around. Someone slashed her brake lines—she only hit a pole, luckily. And her apartment recently went up in flames. No doubt Ettore and his men are behind it. Earlier tonight, I didn’t confront him about it. Why not?
If it were my son’s mother in danger, I’d be at his house slitting his fucking throat. I know the answer. I like Lucinda, but not enough to claim her as mine.
The war with Ettore is finally done. But Aleksandr’s still a problem. Lucinda can stay in one of the vacant units here,guarded by a few of my soldiers. Meanwhile, I’m heading back to my mansion in Elizabeth, New Jersey.
Moving through the huge space, I step into my ensuite bedroom and shed my clothes. Whenever I’m alone, I scroll through the countless photos of Madden that Fia has sent to my secure email. I can’t keep my son’s pictures on my phone—too risky; I won’t put him in danger.
I’m eager to see Madden soon. Amidst all this chaos, the one thing that brings me comfort is that he looks just like me. And Serenity has to see my twin every minute of every day. A smirk crosses my lips as I step beneath one of the eight shower heads. Once the war with Aleksander ends, it’ll be time for her to come home.
Chapter Seven
WELCOME BACK PARTY
NICO
Aserver approaches with a practiced smile, balancing a silver tray filled with crystal flutes.
“Mr. Pitucco, champagne?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I pluck a glass from the tray without taking my eyes off the ballroom.
The Cichello mansion looks more like a palace than a home. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm golden glow across polished marble floors while mob bosses mingle in tailored suits beside wives draped in designer gowns and enough diamonds to buy a city block. Every raised glass hides a business deal. Every smile conceals an agenda.
This is the Cichellos’ annual gala.
This year it doubles as a welcome home party for Serenity.
After the Pituccos expanded into Delaware, invitations to gatherings like this became expected.
I can’t believe we’re the New Jersey Five Families again. When Dillon returned from the dead, he led the Magarellis and Espositos in a war, wiping out the rotten branches of the Bertozzi bloodline. For years we were The New Jersey Four Families: Magarellis, Espositos, Romanos, Pituccos.
