Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
“Fabiano!” Mom said, wide-eyed.
“No, you’re not. What happened between Nevio and me is only my business.”
Dad’s head was almost purple from fury. “It’s my business if he compels you to have sex with him!”
“You had sex with Mom before marriage, if this is about having sex out of wedlock.” My cheeks burned. Talking about sex with Dad was the absolute last thing I wanted, but he didn’t leave me a choice.
“It’s not about some conservative world views,” Dad gritted out. “This is about you being with Nevio fucking Falcone. He’s not someone you should be close to. And I had serious intentions with your mother. What about him?”
I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure of Nevio’s intentions. I doubted even he knew.
“You were unsure about us when you started pursuing me. Maybe it’s the same with Nevio,” Mom said, touching Dad’s upper arm in a calming gesture.
He met Mom’s gaze, and for once, she didn’t get through to him. “I sure hope not. I don’t want him with Aurora. I won’t allow it.”
“I’m here, you know. And I have no intention to be with Nevio,” I said. This was my life, and though I’d admitted I made some very bad decisions when it came to Nevio, I now had a new resolve to ban him from my life once and for all.
Dad pulled his phone from his pocket. “I need to call Remo now.”
I took a step forward. “Wait.”
Dad frowned. “It’s his grandson. He needs to know so he can rip Nevio a new one.”
I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly so scared to tell Nevio’s family about Battista. They had a right to know. They were his family after all. Mom gave me a reassuring smile. “It’ll be all right. Remo won’t be mad at you for helping Nevio keep this secret.”
“He’ll be mad as he should, and I’m mad as hell,” Dad said, giving me a stern look. “Lying about everything, that’s not who we raised you to be.”
“You taught me the importance of loyalty. You don’t always agree with Remo’s decisions but you have his back.”
“He’s my Capo.”
Mom gave him a look but she didn’t contradict him.
“He’s your friend first,” I said. Though friend really wasn’t the right term. Fabiano considered Remo almost as his brother, but I couldn’t bring myself to see the Falcones as family, especially now that I’d slept with one of them. That would be too weird.
“Which is why I’m going to call him now. The secrets end now.”
Not all of them.
“Maybe we should tell Remo in person,” Mom said in her lawyer voice. “That way, he can’t build up his rage.”
“He’ll have more than enough if we tell him in person, but this might be news that’s really better told directly.” Dad lifted the phone to his ear. After a few rings, Remo picked up. “I need to come over to talk to you. It’s important.” Pause. “I’d rather not tell you over the phone.” Pause. “Yes, it’s linked to Nevio.” Dad lowered the phone, then he met my gaze.
I swallowed. “This isn’t going to go over well.”
I never thought I’d leave Las Vegas, not for long, not without a definite return date. Yet today, I’d purchased a one-way ticket to Naples.
I hadn’t talked to anyone about it, not even Greta or Aurora. There was enough commotion in my brain as it was. Nobody could take this decision from me because nobody knew how messed up my thoughts were right now. I needed time to get a grip—to grow up how Dad would call it. Maybe that too. But who’d ever heard of a serial killer growing out of his murderous urges.
The problem wasn’t even the latter—being a good killer and loving it was the best condition to be a Made Man. The whole male side of my family were murderers. Some liked it more than others, but we were all good at it. Problem was that it had become an addiction. After a kill, I was already thirsting for the next kill. I lived for my nightly hunts and needed to get a grip.
I wanted to. I wanted to manage my dark side like Dad and Nino did, something I’d never admit to them. I admired them for how they handled a family life and the darkness that they harbored.
Sometimes I wanted to hurt everyone, but there were certain people I always wanted to save a little more than I wanted to hurt them. Save them from me. The problem was, every day I was a little less sure who held the reins, me or the monster.
When I left the Falcone mansion in the morning, I wasn’t sure when I’d return or if I’d return. I could die helping the Camorra in Italy. I could decide my darkness simply wasn’t controllable.