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“Well…” I shuffle in my chair, wishing I had alcohol for the next words I’m going to say. “I was fucking Jeremy’s long-lost grandson. He had plans to take him under, but I kind of—killed him. He was a pig and tried to steal from me.”
“Jesus Christ—” Papa pushes back on the table, his chair rolling backward slightly. “Well, that makes sense why they tried blowing up this spot. Jeremy and I, we will fix this. Ruby, what else have you been doing since?”
“Yeah, Ruby?” Wicked’s muscles on the side of his jaw tense. “Who else? Russians too?”
I smile cruelly at him. “And how did Wicked know this? You literally only just met him when he was young. After he offed his daddy dearest—if that was even real.” Wicked chuckles from his spot and the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I don’t pay him any attention. “How? How could he know?”
Papa’s cheeks widen, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that I know the next thing he says is not going to be something I like. “Bubba, Wicked is the Cosa Nostra.”
Turning my head to face Wicked again, I ignore the silence that vibrates around the table. There’s a shadow of doubt that hovers over the room. Maybe it’s because I just found out Papa has been lying to us so now I don’t trust him, or maybe it’s something else. But right now, I feel it in my gut. They’re hiding information from me.
“Want to tell me why?”
Wicked smirks, flashing his perfect dimple that reminds me of Wolf. “Victor picking up Poppy and me that night wasn’t a rescue, Ruby.” His fingers wrap around a cigar that’s lying in front of him. “It was a retrieval.”
“Hmmm.” I turn back to Papa. “What family? And if you say ours, I’ll kill you both.”
Papa’s eyes widen slightly before he leans back in his chair. “No, Ruby. My grandson isn’t the product of incest. Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes out. “The Amante family.”
I pale, fear grazing its sharp talons down the base of my heart. “Amante?” Everyone knows about the Amante family. A tragic tale of love being in the wrong hands. “The Lost Family?”
Papa nods his head slowly. “Aiy, Bubba.” He turns and I follow his eyes to Wicked.
“I didn’t know they had a kid.”
Wicked grins so wide he flashes his straight white teeth. It’s the first time that I’ve noticed the mafia in him. It never made sense, why Papa would make him a made man. It went against all of the rules and commandments.
“So why are you here? Playing biker?” I ask, running my palms down my thighs. Does he remember what happened to his family? Probably not. I read one time that trauma tends to drown out memories.
“Because they’re my family and I don’t give a fuck how it looks like on the outside. The Irish knew that, and that’s why they came here. They knew about Wolf before I fucking knew about Wolf, Ruby, and they knew I was his father. You getting your pussy wet almost cost lives.”
“I hate you.”
Lion interrupts, “I know this is a family affair, but this MC isn’t exactly conventional and doesn’t stick to the norm. Having Wicked as a member, we always thought was going to be a short-term thing, but—”
“—but I’ve decided to keep the patch. This is my family now, not the Cosa Nostra. I ain’t interested in it.”
“But you’re a made man.” I sneer. “Blood in, blood out.”
“I can do both.” He stubs out his cigar. “When needed anyway.”
“And why did Papa have to fake his own death?”
Papa stands from his chair and makes his way to the corner of the room. He’s agitated, I can see it in his eyes. “Because the family that killed his knows about my involvement with him as a boy. It’s complicated, principessa. I’ll handle all the details.”
“Of course. He’s Sergio Amante’s son.” I chuckle, shaking my head and running my fingers through my hair, shifting it to the side. “Sergio was an elder, the Capo Dei Capi of the Commission which—” I rest my elbow on the table, massaging my forehead. “Makes sense why Gio and Marcu were scared of him. It also makes sense now how close you and Papa are. Can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” I gulp past the swell in my throat. It tastes a lot like betrayal and cigarettes. “So Papa faked his death because the family who took yours out now wants his blood because they’ve found out that you’re alive…” I shoot up from the table. “Do they know you have a son?”
Wicked bares his teeth. “I barely knew I had a son. Sit your ass down.”
My body instantly lowers. “So who is it? Who is it that killed your family? We can take them out.”
Wicked shifts his head over his shoulder slightly to look at Papa behind him. There’s information they’re both keeping from me. That’s obvious and not a surprise. Both of them have been joined at the hip since the beginning. I don’t know why I was surprised to hear that Papa wasn’t really dead. No body. No other explanation but that there was a shooting and he was the fatality. How dumb and naive, so wrapped up in my grief to ask questions.
“I am coming home tonight, Bubba. You can step down.” The corners of his eyes wrinkle.
“Good luck taking that from her. From what I hear, she’s been having far too good of a time out there, leaving a blood trail behind her.” Wicked’s eyes are on mine, darkening.
“Jealous, lover?”
