Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
He shook his head, eyes full of tears, and then shook his head again like he couldn’t get the words quite out. Then finally, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “He was just made. Even in death, he’s a made man by honor of the Capo and the Five Families—they bury him as one of their own.” His voice cracked. “As a brother.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“I respectfully decline to answer because I honestly believe my answer might tend to incriminate me.” —Joey Gallo
Santino
I had a lot to think about as I walked back up that hill, got into the car with Katya, and drove to Andrei’s, mainly that I was an idiot, a jackass, and that I’d had it wrong all along.
They were truly brothers. Honorable, loyal, and a bit unhinged, but they were the epitome of Family.
They put mine to shame.
I’d always been so proud of my heritage, my Family, where I came from, and within days they’d taken that notion and made me feel like a fool.
It was my pride, my own twisted prejudices, and beliefs about what others said about the Cosa Nostra. I let it bleed into me like a poison, and I drank again and again, thinking I was validated in wanting to ruin them.
I wasn’t.
The reason people came for them wasn’t because of their wealth or power—they came for them because these men had something nobody else had.
Love. Family. Each other. Blood.
They came for the Five Families out of jealousy. It was clear as day they thought if they just had what these guys did, they’d be happy too, they’d be honorable too, loyal, good.
But goodness didn’t come from having what others did, it didn’t come from things or money, it came from within, and it came from sacrifice, something that my family was never really able to understand.
They inflicted pain for respect.
Abuse for results.
Torture in place of love.
No wonder we were twisted.
“What are you thinking about?” Next to me, Katya yawned as the SUV pulled up to Andrei’s.
“You,” I whispered. “Us. Everything.”
“Long day.”
“Long days,” I corrected.
She squeezed my thigh. “I have you.”
“I have you,” I repeated back, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close to me. “Whoa…”
The entire house was lit up, music was playing, and there was a catering van parked in front.
“Are we having a party?” She frowned.
We quickly got out of the car and went to the front, where we were greeted with a full glass of wine or champagne, food, and all of the family.
Tex walked up and lifted his glass. “We don’t celebrate death. We celebrate life.” He clinked his glasses with ours. “So now, we smile, and we live—for them, we live, and we eat.” He leaned in. “Don’t mention to Chase that we got a caterer. He’s still super pissed about it and goes into a tirade that almost always ends up directed at Nixon. And last time, Nixon… well, I’ll just say there were shovels involved over Christmas, it wasn’t pretty, the duck got loose—” He shook his head. “Many little ducklings lost that day.”
“WHAT!” Katya yelled.
“Kidding.” He winked. “But Dante did lose a tooth.” He shook his head. “Anyway, relax, drink, eat, and if you need to talk to women who are more sensitive than the ass connected to you, they’re in the kitchen arguing over which wine to pair with the cheese.”
“I SAID IT SHOULD BE RED!” A loud feminine voice shouted. Tex winced. “That would be my wife. She’s very passionate about wines now that she’s pregnant again and can’t have them. Be right back, maybe, if she doesn’t kill me.”
Katya drank some of her wine and turned toward me.
I knew that smile; she was thinking things. “What?”
“Let’s go upstairs.” Katya grabbed my hand.
My eyebrows shot up. “To… change?”
“Kind of.” She laughed.
“Watch a movie?” I guessed jokingly.
“Hmmmm…” She jerked her chin toward my champagne. “I’d finish that to numb the pain you’re about to experience through vigorous exercise.”
I’d never chugged champagne so fast. I grabbed her wine for good measure, tossed that back, and pounded my chest. “Ready.”
“Make love to me, assassin,” she teased as we slowly went up the stairs.
I slid my hand down and grabbed her ass. “Whatever the warrior wants, she gets.”
We walked hand-in-hand up those stairs.
Into the light.
It felt different now; everything did. I wasn’t thinking about my family back home anymore. All I saw was her in that white dress. All I felt was the burning from her touch. Her gentle fingertips caressing my arm.
Maybe this would be different, we would hold one another, and everything would feel like the happy ending she deserved, where we could just sit and—
“—Hold this.” The minute we were back in the room, she quickly took off one shoe and then the other, handing me her red Valentino clutch while I watched, dumbfounded.