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I never questioned her. I listened and learned.
A Catholic doting son.
It was never proven who had killed my father. However, when my mother was found with the same wounds as he had, theaccidentalcar wreck couldn’t be overlooked, and the message was clear.
For years, I worked my way up in the syndicate with Sal by my side.
For years, I waited, planning and slowly working to become the head boss Miami needed.
Because when you were at the top, the one who made the orders, and the one who people feared, nothing was out of reach. Not even the head of another syndicate within the Mafia.
Any rule could be broken.
It only took patience and smart thinking to avoid leaving a trail.
Katia delayed my plans. It worked even better as this union could dismiss our bad blood to others and create an alliance for those left alive in that syndicate instead of searching for vengeance.
While at times, I had a consuming hatred for my own reeling mind, it kept me one step ahead and focused on my endgame.
Today was no different. That was after his suggestive admission of my father’s death. Then when I’d seen his hand rise, ready to strike Katia, I lost all reasoning with the need to shoot him on the spot.
My God, I was so close.
So close to losingeverything, andshehad been the one who had created such a turbulent will in me.
It was Enzo’s response to hold his father back, as well as Leo’s quiet attitude, that brought me back.
Something wasn’t right, and I knew I had to see tomorrow through.
As I sat at the head of the formal set table, I sipped and watched the brown liquor swirl inside the cup. I paid my brothers no attention and focused on the melting ice and the sweating drops that ran through the wedges of the clear-cut glass, trying to comprehend what had been happening in New York and had occurred outside of my doors. Hell, what continued to brew on the front stone steps.
“Do you think Mario will show up tomorrow?” Arlo asked.
I cleared my throat. “He can’t afford not to.”
Mario had to. He wouldn’t disrespect me so boldly. He didn’t possess the balls it would take to show his true colors to the Mafia.
“Any word on Sal?” I asked, needing assurance to relieve some of the dragging anxiety that clutched my chest.
“He’s awake and eating.”
Good.
Salvatore had to be there tomorrow. Not by duty, but for me.
“Should we be staying?”
I heard Davina’s voice quiver and drew my eyes away from my glass and aimed them at her.
“Are you afraid?” My question was detached.
Davina sat between Arlo and Ilias on my right, and as she glanced at both sides, she shook her head.
“No,” she replied, meeting my gaze.
“Would you like to leave?”
“I stay where Ilias stays.” Her answer was expected.
