Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115291 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“I was waiting for moral support.”
“You mean someone who stops you from sticking your knife into one of our uncles?”
“I don’t have a track record of killing family members, so if anyone ends up crushing our uncles’ throats, it’ll be you,” he said with his shark grin.
Giving him the finger, I headed up the stairs. Matteo was close behind me.
I jabbed the code into the security panel then stepped inside. Male voices came from the back of the house where the meeting room was situated. When we entered the room, everyone had already taken their respective seats. Only the two chairs on Father’s right side were still vacant, our seats.
Father scowled. “You’re late.”
My eyes darted to my watch. One minute late.
“I’m sure the boy got distracted by his stunning wife,” Mansueto Moretti, Underboss of Philadelphia, said with a crooked smile. He was several years older than my father, which was why he dared to speak up at all, and his age was also why he was going to survive calling me boy.
“He should get his priorities straight. A whore can be replaced,” Father drawled, turning around toward his liquor cabinet.
Matteo gripped my wrist hard, and my eyes jerked toward him. His warning gaze made me take a deep breath. I wasn’t sure what he’d seen on my face, but it must have been bad. I turned back to the gathered men, most of them focused on my father who poured himself a scotch, but Mansueto and Uncle Gottardo had their eyes on me. The former didn’t worry me as much as the latter.
I stalked toward my chair and sank down. Matteo took his seat beside me, still watching me warily. He could stop it. I wouldn’t kill our father in a room full of Underbosses. I was fairly sure the Underbosses from Philadelphia, Boston, Charleston and Baltimore would be on my side, even if the last city was ruled by my Aunt Egidia’s husband, Felix. She hated her brother and her husband definitely shared that sentiment. But the remaining men wouldn’t be on my side. Father’s Consigliere Bardoni because he knew I wouldn’t keep him in that position the moment I was in power, and the other men because they were either loyal to my father or wanted to become Capo themselves.
My father took his seat at the head of the table and took a sip from his scotch. He didn’t offer anything to us, but I hadn’t expected him to. It was his way to show all of us that we were his subjects, which was also why he sat in a wide leather armchair while we perched on fucking wooden stools.
My father motioned with his glass toward his Consigliere, which was obviously his cue to report about the latest attacks from the Bratva in our territory. I knew of most of them already. I made sure to get updates from the Underbosses once a month at least, while my father never bothered to get involved. He preferred things being handled for him, especially in recent years. It led to some Underbosses, my uncles namely, doing whatever they pleased in their territories. That would change the moment I came into power, but knowing my father, he’d live forever out of spite.
The meeting dragged on for hours, and when we finally emerged from the house, it was getting dark.
Matteo blew out a breath. “I don’t suppose you’re up for a night in the Sphere?” he asked with lopsided grin, but his eyes were tired.
“You said it yourself, my days as a free man are over. I have a date with Aria.”
Matteo shook his head. “Strange to think of you as a husband. Why don’t you bring her along? I’m sure she can shake her booty to the beat.”
“The only one she’s going to shake her booty for is me,” I muttered. The idea of Aria in a crowded club, even with me at her side, didn’t sit well with me.
Matteo mounted his bike then put on his helmet. “Enjoy your wife, while I find a girl for a meaningless toilet stall fling.” He laughed, then put down his visor and raced away.
Enjoying my wife was something I was fucking eager to do…if she’d let me.
It was strange returning home, knowing someone was waiting for me. Someone who’d be waiting for me all our lives.
But when I stepped into my penthouse, it wasn’t Aria I saw. Romero sat on the sofa but got up when he saw me. “She’s upstairs, getting ready,” he said.
“How did it go?” I asked, regarding him closely. I trusted Romero, which was why he was allowed to be alone with Aria, but he was still a guy and she was a woman too beautiful for words.
“She was upstairs most of the time.” He hesitated.
“What?”
“I think she cried, but I didn’t check on her.”