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“I cannot step onto Sorvino territory without sparking a war, Mr. Silva. You should know that.”

“I know. I know.” The old man wrings his hat in his hands. “I want to move the store out of Sorvino territory and to Rossi territory, like my other stores. That way, I am assured good protection by the best family.” He swallows hard.

“And how can I help you to do this?” I ask, although I already know the answer.

“Moving to a new location is very costly, and with that store being robbed constantly and always harassed, I don’t have the money to move it right now. If you could please loan me the money, I would happily pay you back…with interest, of course, over a period of time.”

I tap my fingers on the table and watch him. “How much?”

“I’m short a hundred thousand,” he says wearily. “I can make payments of five thousand each month.”

I nod my head. “You are right to approach the Rossi family. You are one of us, and we take care of our own. I will arrange this money for you, Mr. Silva, but the monthly repayment is seven thousand dollars. Five of which count toward your actual debt. Do you accept my terms?”

He looks worried but nods eagerly. “Yes, I do, sir, thank you.”

“Lyle will take down your details, and we’ll wire the money to your bank account. Don’t worry, Mr. Silva, you will be very well protected under my family.”

I offer him my hand, and he kisses my ring, an archaic power play. “Thank you, Don Rossi. I appreciate your kindness so much.”

I nod, and he gets up. Lyle guides him out of the room and leaves to get his details. It’s not a lot of money in the scheme of things, but they’re married into my family and will pay me back with interest when they want to use family funds.

I have a few other sites to inspect on my way home. By the time I’ve reached the estate again, the sun has already set. I let Jeffrey take my suit jacket as usual, and I look at Lyle. “Go tell her it’s time for dinner.”

I go to the dining room and sit down at my place. A plate of steak and vegetables is placed in front of me with a side of gravy and mashed potatoes. Kira comes in and sits down, mumbling a hello.

I ignore her and start to eat. Once I’ve taken the first bite, she picks up her utensils and starts to eat as well. We sit there in absolute silence, save for the clicking of cutlery on plates.

Out of the blue, she looks up at me and asks, “Why are you being so cruel to me? I haven’t done anything horrible to you.”

I slam my cutlery down, unable to contain my anger. “You haven’t done anything horrible to me, Kira?”

“You act like I have, then tell me what I did?” she raises her own voice.

I push my chair back and stand, screaming at her, “You fucking left me, Kira. Without a word or a note or anything. You just fucking left, and I spent months trying to find you to get you back, but no one even knew you’d left New York. I risked people’s lives to try to find you, but you couldn’t give one fuck about us or me and let me know where the hell you had gone to.”

She pushes her chair back so fast that it topples over and screams at me with full force, “Because I fucking couldn’t, Miguel. My father forced me to go back to Italy because he found out about us. He was so ashamed of me that he didn’t even want my cousins to know what I had done—sleeping with a Rossi. It was against my wishes, and I had no way of contacting anyone because I was under lock and key. You had freedom! I was alone, scared, and pregnant…” she cuts herself off, promptly turning around and storming off.

I’m caught off guard, both by the revelation and the announcement. I rush after her and catch her at the stairs grabbing her wrist as she starts to run up them.

“You were pregnant? Was it mine?”

She glares at me.

“Kira, was it my child?” I shout at her, taking a step up but holding onto her really tightly. “Kira, you tell me now, was it, my child? Did you abort? Are they alive?” I feel like I’m losing my mind. “Where is my child, Kira!”

“It was a boy,” she shrieks, trying to pull out of my vice grip. I stare at her as she continues, “I had your son all alone in Italy, and I’ve been raising him since then. Is that what you want to know? Congratulations, Don Rossi, you have an heir to the throne of your family. But I’ll be dead and fucking buried if you ever get to see him. You don’t know him. You don’t know how to raise a child. I’ve spent twelve years teaching, nurturing, and instilling goodness in him. He will not be a monster like you.”

I step back, letting go of her wrist. I’m in shock. I know I am. I need to respond, but I leave her to scramble up the stairs and to her room. I wait to hear the door slam, and once I do, I turn and sit on the stairs.

Lyle emerges from the shadows he was standing in. “Miguel?”

He only does that in intimate moments, and I look up at him. “Did you hear that?”

“So, it is true. You were with the Sorvino girl when you were in college. There were rumors, but none of us believed them.” He doesn’t look disappointed. He looks as though he pities me. I frown. “Remember your place, cousin.”

“You have a son,” he says quietly. “You should tell your father before he hears it from one of the workers.”

“Or you?” I ask, standing up again.

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