Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
The code of honor.
Fuck. That. Shit.
“Sienna, you want to play cards? Let’s play Blackjack, you’re getting really good.”
I shrugged, I was.
Numbers were my thing, I liked counting cards.
“All you’re doing is trying to appease me.”
“Is it working?”
“No.” Maybe.
“Can I just call my girlfriend? I haven’t talked to Aurora since my graduation party. Please…”
“Sienna, you’re a lady. Don’t beg.”
“Uncle Gino… Papà disconnected the landline, and my cellphone. The only phone that works is the one in his office. I need to know what happened between her and Diego. Oh my God, did they break up? Are they together? These are things a best friend needs to know. They were having problems. She probably thinks I’m dead.”
“Gesù Cristo, Sienna Contessa Luciano, mi stai dando i capelli grigi,” he swore, “Jesus Christ, you’re giving me gray hair.”
“All your hair is gray already, I can’t give you more.”
He sighed, setting his cellphone on the counter. “I’m going to the kitchen. You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
I smiled, nodding.
This was our dynamic. Within reason, Uncle Gino always gave in to my requests. My father trusted his judgment, although it didn’t mean he turned a blind eye to what Uncle Gino would approve. He checked the phone records, he knew every single person in my life. They had to go through him to be my friend. If he said no, I’d never see that person again.
After he closed the door behind him, I grabbed his phone and dialed Aurora’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hey!”
“Sienna? Holy shit I thought you were dead!”
“On my father’s watch? Never.”
“Where have you been?”
“On house arrest.”
“What did you do? Did your dad find out about—”
“Of course not! I’d really be dead if he did.”
“That’s why I thought you were! Don’t ever do that to me again. I’ve been lighting a candle for you at Santa Maria every day, Sienna. I called you, but your phone says it’s been disconnected.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“So what happened? What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“We talk about everything.”
“I know, but I can’t talk about this.”
“Why?”
“For your own good.”
“You sound like your father.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Sienna, are you okay?”
“As okay as I can be.”
“When are you allowed out again?”
“I don’t know. Soon I hope.”
“What about Massimo?”
“That’s why I’m calling. Can you go check on him for me?”
“Your horse hates me.”
“He hates everyone, it’s nothing personal. Please, just go make sure he’s okay.”
“All right, yeah. I can do that. How do I get in touch with you?”
“I’ll call you next week.”
“Whose number is this?”
“Uncle Gino’s.”
“I’ll save it in my phone.”
“Don’t bother, it will probably be a new number the next time I call.”
“Oh man, Sienna. Are things that bad right now?”
“You could say that.”
“Will you at least tell me something?”
“I hate my life.”
She laughed.
It felt good to feel normal even if it was only for a few minutes. These were the small pleasures I had, talking on the phone with my best friend. Aurora was aware of who I was and what my father did. Italy belonged to him. The Luciano name governed, like it did for my grandfather and my great grandfather before him. Generations upon generations of mafioso wise guys.
Greed for money.
Power.
Dominance.
The government didn’t control shit, organized crime did.
“Anyway, how are you? Things good with Diego?”
“Meh. He’s not my favorite.”
For the next twenty minutes, she caught me up on her life, and I cherished every last second of our conversation. It was nice to talk to my girl and pretend as if my life wasn’t run by Lorenzo Luciano, El Capo.
By the time my uncle came back, we’d hung up. I didn’t want him to eavesdrop and if given the opportunity, he probably would have.
“Hey, thanks for that,” I expressed my gratitude.
“Thanks for what?” he played coy, winking at me. “I just went to get a sandwich.”
“I don’t see my sandwich.”
“Your wish came true. Your father’s home and he’s asking for you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, he needs you in his office.”
My excitement to finally see him was cut short far too quickly, I jerked back, confused. “His office?”
No good ever came from going into my father’s office. I was only summoned there when I was in trouble or he had news I wouldn’t appreciate. Behind those four walls, his office always meant business.
“Sienna, let’s not keep him waiting.”
Shit. Did he find out? Does he know?
I nodded, following Uncle Gino out of my room and down the hall. Papà’s office was in the other wing of the estate, furthest from my bedroom. Our home was a fifteen thousand square foot mansion on ten acres of land, which had security walking the grounds day and night. The press wasn’t wrong about me, I did grow up a mafia princess. My father wouldn’t have had it any other way.
I never wanted for anything. I had the best designer clothes, the most expensive high-end shoes. The jewelry I owned was all laced in gold, so was the trim finishing in our homes in different locations over the world. We had an airplane, a jet, a helicopter, several yachts, garages full of cars, and motorcycles. The list of luxuries was endless. My life was extravagant, it was all I’d ever known. I wasn’t scared of my father. I respected and loved him. He’d never hurt me. At least not physically.