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)
“Don’t you dare make this into a surprise.”
“Sorry, baby, but you’ll have to handle the suspense a little bit longer.”
“You are truly a monster.”
He laughs and we get into the car together. I watch him, trying not to smile, because he seems lighter than he did only a few hours ago. Burying Bruno was hard, but now we’re talking about the future, and I think he’s finally starting to imagine what life can be like if he’s thinking more than a few days ahead.
“I love you,” he says, and I’m surprised at how easily it comes out, and how natural it sounds from him. It’s the first time he’s said it.
“I love you too,” I reply and lean across the car to kiss him.
“Everyone’s getting together for dinner later tonight,” he says as he pulls out and heads back to the oasis. “Sort of a gathering in Bruno’s honor. You’re coming?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
He nods, squinting straight ahead, and when I take his right hand in mine, he squeezes.
Chapter 41
Davide
The war has the entire organization mobilized. It took Bruno’s death to finally kick my brother’s ass into gear, but now he’s finally taking it seriously. Every single soldier under the control of the Bianco Famiglia understands the situation: kill the Santoros, no hesitation.
Everyone except for me. I drive my territory with Emilio and we talk about Bruno, because it’s easier than pretending like we aren’t thinking about him all the time, but we aren’t sneaking around the city at night cutting throats. There’s still action—it’s a war and killing is what I do best—but not like before. No more stupid risks.
I park the car outside of a boring-looking laundromat in a nice neighborhood. It’s the sort of place that doesn’t need a laundromat, and not many people come in, except there always seems to be a few really big, really scary-looking guys lurking around the front glaring at anyone who walks past. I enter and nod to them as I head into the back.
And stop in my office door.
My wife’s sitting behind the desk, right where I left her, looking over my books. But sitting across from her is my father.
He’s not in a wheelchair anymore. It’s been a few months since the shooting, and he’s gone through this rehab assignment. The physical therapists all say he’s about as good as he’s going to get, which means he’ll always walk with the aid of a crutch. He complains about it, but my old man’s tough as nails.
“This is a surprise,” I say to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Aside from telling me somewhat terrifying stories from your childhood?” Stefania asks, eyebrows raised. “Mostly he’s distracting me from my job.”
Dad laughs and shoots her an amused look. I love the way my wife gets along with my family. So much has changed, and she’s really blossomed into herself these last few months, like she’s finally feeling comfortable enough to be herself around them. It’s amazing to watch.
“Your wife here was begging me to tell her about all the stupid shit you did as a youth. And now she has the gall to pretend otherwise.”
She gasps and puts a hand to her throat. “I’d never.”
“Enough, you two.” I go over and kiss my wife on the cheek. “To what do I owe this pleasure, old man?”
Dad smirks at me and sits up straighter. “I wanted to come tell you in person. We’re making a change in leadership.”
My eyebrows raise and I glance down at Stefania, but she seems surprised too. “Does Simon know?” I ask.
“No, I’m blindsiding my own son.” Dad gives me a hard look. “Of course he fucking knows. He’s happy to step aside.”
I sit down on the top of the desk. Stefania rests her hand on my knee and looks concerned. I can’t imagine Simon’s happy about any of this. He’s been running the Famiglia very well for a while now, and he’s been doing a good job navigating this conflict with Santoro.
“You’re not worried about the message it’ll send?” I ask and ignore Stefania when she squeezes me.
“I’m not worried,” Dad says, and his level stare suggests I’d better shut the fuck up and get in line. “We’re going back to normal, that’s all. Simon’s tenure as Don was always meant to be temporary.”
I grunt in reply. “Then congratulations on your ascension, Don Bianco.”
Dad pushes himself to his feet and leans on his cane. He really should be on arm crutches, but the cane’s what he forces himself to use in public. Dad’s a good Don, he’s fair, strong, and clever, but the gunshot wound changed him, and I’m worried he’s not ready to step into this role with the way things are right now. There’s too much stress.
“The rest of the organization will be made aware tomorrow,” he says as he heads to the door. “But spread word ahead of time. I don’t want any surprises.”