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“I’m fine! Jesus, I’m not an invalid. Just because I’m hidden away doesn’t mean I need to be kept out of the loop. The De Vico’s? Again?” I ask, frowning as they confirm.
The De Vico family has been an enemy of my family since the dawn of time. The Saracino’s have fought hard to maintain control over the city, but these people are relentless. Heinous, relentless, and fucking brutal.
“Do I need to worry?” I ask, Carmelo getting up to grab the knife from my hand before he cuts into the dessert.
“Never, little one. We’re finally gaining the upper hand in our war. Now is the greatest time to relax and live your life with ease,” he says, kissing my forehead before he hands a slice of cake to all of us.
Regardless of his words, I can still feel the worry seep into my blood and blossom through my veins.
CHAPTERTWO
Lori
My alarm is blaring, and I have a headache from Hell. My brothers stayed late last night and although I missed and enjoyed their company, I am now regretting my decision as I walk to the shower just before six in the morning.
I shower quickly and dress in my favorite red skirt and white silk blouse, sliding into a pair of nude flats before I blow dry my hair, spray my favorite perfume, and walk out the door. The trip to work is never long. Thankfully, Iris Media is only a few blocks away from the apartment and I usually make it there before any of the editors do, allowing me to develop my photos and have them on their desks by the time they walk in the office. I have a nice little setup here, my own small office and developer room right next to the editing team and John, the CEO.
I’ve always been worried working for men that I don’t know, but thankfully, John Iris is one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. He and his team have always been understanding of my condition, and he always makes an effort to compliment my work and provide guidance rather than criticism. I enjoy bringing him new photos —his words are always refreshing.
Like today, when I slapped a stack of photos labeled "Central Park Series" on his desk. I can hear his awe and see his head nod in approval, his hand reaching out to pat mine.
“Kid, I don’t know how you do it, but you amaze me every damn time,” he beams, pride filling my heart as a smile stretches my lips.
“Thank you, I can hang around today and work on the next series if you want—”
“Nonsense.” He waves me off, calling in one of his editors to take my stack of photos.
“You’ve been working yourself to the ground and are way ahead of schedule. The next issue deadline isn’t for another two months. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and relax for once?” He laughs and I sigh, unsure of what to do with my day.
If I’m not working or taking photos, I pretty much have no other purpose, but I decide not to argue against him. I want to always be in his good graces.
I shake his hand and grab my bag from my office, putting on my headphones and starting to walk home. Maybe I'll try a new recipe today. I have a series of audio cookbooks that I’ve yet to dive into.
Right before I tell my phone to open the file, Claudio calls me. I make sure every person in my life has their own specific ringtone so I can identify the caller. Because Claudio is the one who calls me the most, I always hear Elvis' "Can't Help Falling in Love."
“Hey, Claud. What’s up?” I ask, turning the corner towards my apartment.
“She left me.” His slurred voice says through the phone and my heart breaks for him instantly.
Claudio has been with the same woman, Maddalena, since high school. He just bought her an engagement ring, and I can tell by his broken and mumbled voice that this must have happened earlier, which means he's been drinking all morning.
Fuck.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m so sorry, I know you must be hurting, but we’ll figure this out, okay? It might help for you to talk about it. I’m off for the rest of the day and I’m about to come home, why don’t you come to the apartment, and we can relax together?” I try not to cry for him as he agrees with garbled words.
My sweet, older brother may work for one of the most dangerous businesses in New York City, but he has a heart of gold and, now, that heart is completely shattered. I’m instantly worried for him.
This week has already been a shit show and it’s only Tuesday.
* * *
Marco
I’m staring at the ten-year-old death certificate of my father when Sergio, my assistant, calls me.
“I found one of the brothers. I was able to tap into his call. He’s absolutely plastered and on his way to the girl’s house. Tracking his location now,” he says, and I immediately sit up in my leather chair, my glass of whiskey shaking on my oak desk.
Ah, the secret daughter of Graziano Saracino. Has the mystery finally been revealed?
