Page 66 of Worth of Waste

“Da!” the baby cried, his little hands shooting out toward Dino as he lurched toward his father. “Da!”

Dino’s lukewarm coffee was forgotten instantly, set aside to the coffee table as he stood to go to his son. No matter what, when that kid wanted him, Dino was going to go.

He’d settled himself on that long ago.

Junior bounced happily in his father’s arms as Karen came up behind them, a camera already in her hands. She took pictures, and Dino got his boy interested in the gifts under the tree again.

He understood then why he couldn’t make his house feel like a proper home. After all, his home was where his heart was, and his heart was with the people who made it beat.

Dino

NOPE, absolutely nothing had changed in the Outfit.

The New Year’s bash Riley Conti had put together for the four families was a perfect example of just how little things had changed within the ranks. The people were still excessive, still greedier than most, and still liked to show it off.

Dino had to wonder if the rivalry between the families would ever wane, but he seriously doubted it would, unless something serious happened to force them all to work together. It amused him to no end that the older generation of Outfit people had grown up essentially hating one another while playing nice at the dinner table for the sake of appearances.

Yet, the younger generation, the children of those same people, had forged friendships that went much deeper than what it looked like on the outside.

Theo and Damian were a good example of that.

Even Dino’s own sister, Lily, and her friendship with Riley Conti’s daughter, Evelina, was a bright contrast to the absolute hatred Dino held inside for the Outfit’s front boss.

There were more examples he could use, but he didn’t know what good it would do these people. Probably very little, as their lives inside the Outfit had taught them all one important lesson that was the same, no matter which family you belonged to.

For the betterment of themselves.

For the respect of a name.

For the rise of a family—the family you belonged to, of course.

It never failed to amaze Dino how much these people had in common with one another, and yet they barely managed to throw a party without some sort of issue coming up to ruin it. After all, one family couldn’t very well stand for another to look better than them, even if it was something as simple as a holiday celebration.

Dino was sick of it—he didn’t want to be here sharing drinks and fake laughs with these people. Karen had invited him over to share a drink with her around midnight, and if he could get away without someone noticing, he fully intended on doing just that.

He would much rather ring in the New Year with someone he adored, rather than people he was forced to put up with.

Maybe—just maybe—Dino was no better than those around him, who he found himself judging in these situations. He too put on a mask, did what was needing done, and pretended like he wanted to be there. He too hated those around him, yet acted as indifferent as the next person when he was forced into conversation with someone he would rather put in the ground.

It was a strange realization.

One he quickly decided to correct by getting the hell out of the Conti home, and away from the Outfit people. He didn’t want to be there, anyway, so why should he stay?

Dino didn’t think he would be missed.

He had just slipped past the servers in the kitchen, and rounded the entryway to where it lead to the front of the house, when the sound of someone calling his name in a cheerful way made him pause.

“Dino!”

Despite the friendly tone, the familiar voice had Dino’s skin crawling almost instantly. For the most part, he had done well since his release to avoid those he thought might be a detriment to his freedom, for whatever reason. Those people included anyone who was even remotely close to his uncle.

People like Walter Artino.

Dino turned on his heel, facing Walter as the man approached. In his beefy hand, the DeLuca Capo held a glass of what looked to be water, but was more likely to be rum. At his side, the man’s snake of a son, Dean, stayed all too close to his father.

He didn’t trust these particular men.

For good reason.