Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“I might as well make it official,” Don Bianco says from his bed. His voice is weak and he looks so much smaller. Alessandro is normally a big man, vivacious and alive, the sort of man who draws looks and has his own gravity. Right now, he’s barely holding on. “Simon will run the Famiglia. He’s the temporary Don. I’m stepping back until I’m physically healthy enough to retake the role.”
“I’ll do what I have to,” Simon says, nodding to his father.
“Spread my command throughout the Famiglia,” Alessandro says. He sighs and looks at the ceiling, and for a moment, he closes his eyes. I’m worried he’s falling asleep, but he shakes his head, and looks from face to face. He lingers on mine for a moment, and I swear, he smiles.
Everyone’s hanging on his words, the hush thick with suspense.
“There must be an answer for this,” Alessandro says and I notice Freddie’s stricken face. She’s ashen and trembling beside her husband. “I don’t like it. I don’t want to put my family through this. But you are clever, Simon. And you are strong, Davide. With the help of your sisters, I have all the faith in the world that we can go to war with Santoro and crush him.”
Another silence falls over the room. Freddie’s head bows and she crosses herself.
“If only Angelo were here,” Elena murmurs to Davide.
“He’d fucking love this,” he whispers back and grins.
Simon shoots his siblings a hard look and they stop talking.
“I understand what I’m asking of you,” Alessandro continues. “Ultimately, this will be Simon’s decision, and if he choose peace over war, I will respect that decision. But I must make my opinion known. As much as I want to avoid this, your Don was nearly killed, and we will look weak and pathetic if there isn’t a response. We have no choice in the matter. Santoro must die, and all of his soldiers must be either killed or banished from our city. I’m sorry, but it’s how things must be.”
He lapses into silence again, this time looking exhausted. Freddie leans over her husband and speaks to him in low tones as Davide gives me a look and steers me away from the group. Simon’s talking with Elena and Laura, and I step out into the hall with my husband.
I touch his hand. He leans against the wall near a window and the two guards give us some space. I can tell he’s anxious, but nowhere near as ruined as he had been earlier in the day, which I guess is a step in the right direction.
“Things are going to get bad,” he says, looking down at the parking lot outside. “Dad wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t important though.”
“Are you sure it has to be a war?” I step closer and touch his hand. “I remember what war’s like. My family just went through one, and it’s awful.” I can still see my brothers, stressed and on edge. I remember Dante’s funeral and the hollow, horrible way my brothers looked standing around his headstone. And in the end, even though they won and killed their enemies, I can’t see how they’re better off.
“It’ll be Simon’s call in the end, but I need you to know something.” He looks at me and pulls me closer. He raises my fingers to his lips. “I’ll keep you safe.”
It hadn’t occurred to me for a second that he wouldn’t. “I know that.”
He nods like he needed to hear me say it and I lean my face against his chest.
War’s coming to the Bianco Famiglia. It feels like I just escaped from one brutal fight, and now I’m thrown back into another, and this time I don’t know what’s going to happen to the people I care about.
Chapter 34
Davide
Emilio flashes me a hand signal from across the street: he’s coming.
I wait in the shadows of an alley that runs between a fancy salon and a deli. It smells like rotting meat and old fucking hair. I bet there are mounds of the stuff in the dumpster, half of it rotting and covered in gel. I shift back and forth, staying light on my feet, shaking out my hands. It’s late and the darkness is thick in this part of town. We came through a few days ago and made sure most of the lights were broken just for this occasion.
A part of me wants to be back home. It’s not a feeling I’m used to. A few months ago, I would’ve been excited for the chance to go to war—this is my chance to show how important I am to the organization. I’m not a businessman, I’m not a lawyer or some great earner, but I can hurt people. I’m great at breaking bones and making men scream. I’m a brutal thug, a knife in the dark, a killer. War should feel like a dolphin at sea. Completely natural.