Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I laugh sharply. “Really? That can’t be true.”
“It’s true. I told him a million times to get a different metal, to get fool’s gold, anything he wanted, but he always had a million excuses. It never really bothered me, if I’m honest.”
“Huh.” I clear my throat. “I thought he just—didn’t like jewelry.”
“I’m sure that’s what he told you. Can you imagine, your father with a weakness? An allergy to something as simple as gold?” She smiles sadly, no doubt remembering the man she pledged her life to, gone for a decade now.
In our world, in our family, an allergy to gold would be like an allergy to breathing. Flashing wealth, wearing gold, it’s a part of the culture. I figured Father liked to buck trends and be his own person—but it was simpler than that.
Just an allergy.
“Dad never did like to lose,” I say with a smile.
Mom pats my arm. “But it isn’t only the ring that gives you away. It’s the way you look at her.”
“Now you’re making things up.”
“No, Evander. You look at her like you love her, but you won’t let yourself. That’s not how a man looks at his wife.”
“I do love her,” I say quietly, the words coming out as silk, easily and smoothly. I thought it would be an easy lie, but it’s worse than that. It’s the truth, the first time I’ve admitted it out loud. “But I’ve made her life so much worse.”
“Can you be so sure? From what I understand, things were bad with her husband. She was in a rough position and ran away with nothing to her name. That’s admirable, but it was dangerous. Deadly, even.”
“If I had let her run from the start, she wouldn’t be in this position now. I thought I was dealing with some abusive asshole, a nobody I could toss aside. Not Conti himself.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know, but that’s not a good excuse.” I pat my mother’s hand. “What is it you want me to say? That I want to be with my wife? That’s why she’s my wife.”
“I want you to say that to her, not to me.” She smiles, shaking her head. “I already knew it. Sometimes, even acts taken under duress can yield good results. Even marriages.”
I grunt as we finish our circuit of the yard. She releases her grip on me and steps aside. I look at my mother, trying to decide what to make of her. She spends so much time alone, locked up in this house, with nobody but Sophia and Anissa as company. I forget how insightful and clever she can be.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I finally manage to say.
“Good boy.” She pats my cheek. “Now, Lycus is hurrying over. I’m sure you have very important business to attend to.”
“That’s the life of the lord.”
Her smile is sad as she turns and walks off.
“Boss.” Lycus gives my mother a respectful nod. She gives him a little wave then disappears inside. “I’ve got news.”
“What’s going on?” I turn my back on the house, that conversation with my mother ringing through my brain. Tell Camille how I feel. Wear the damn ring. Stop being such a stubborn prick.
“Conti’s house.” Lycus meets my eye. “It’s ashes.”
I stare at him for a long moment as that settles in me.
Burning a residential building is a big step. It’s an escalation in the war, but more than that, it shatters an ancient rule binding the way the mafia families do business in the city. Now that the taboo is ruined, what’s next? What other unspoken rules will be tossed aside for violence?
“Is he dead?” I ask.
Lycus shakes his head. “Wasn’t home when we hit it.”
“And the fire?”
He pauses for a moment. “It spread. I left a couple guys to go around and make sure the neighbors got out before they crisped up. Seems like nobody’s dead.”
“Good news,” I say with relief. “We’ll compensate anyone that lost something. House, object, whatever they claim, we’ll pay.”
“Understood.”
“I don’t want to lose the good will of the neighborhoods. Even if it’s an Italian family, we make good. No excuses.”
“Whatever you say.” He pauses for a moment. “Conti’s going to want revenge.”
“I hope so.” I turn to look at the flowers. Bees buzz between them, flitting from pistil to stem. “Once we eliminate him, I can start talking about the future with their Don. But not before that.”
“Will they accept peace?”
“Not yet, but soon, and on my fucking terms.” I nod to him as I walk to the house. “Shore up our defenses. Get the soldiers out there and make sure they’re ready. When the Italians hit, they’ll hit hard.”
Chapter 44
Evander
That night, I find Camille alone in our room. I pause in the doorway, studying her. She’s in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, her hair in a messy bun, a glass of wine held between both hands. She’s watching TV and texting with someone—probably Ophelia.