Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I nod as the door shuts and I can’t see Elise or Piero anymore. I blow out a breath and feel as if I’m going to cry.
The plane takes off, while my heart, my hopes and dreams and anything I hoped to accomplish are back on the Tuscan earth.
CHAPTER 3
“Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive
If you will lead these graces to the grave
And leave the world no copy.” ~ Twelfth Night, Shakespeare
Orlando
I blink in the bright overhead sun. The last time I came here, snow fell from the sky, just a couple days after Christmas. Now, the sun shines and green leaves are blossoming on trees. If I believed in signs, I’d feel as if this were a sign of new life. But I’m way too jaded to believe in shit like that.
Romeo stands next to me, dressed in one of his impeccable suits, and everyone around us gives him a wide berth. Even the corrections officers nod to him when he comes into the room. Most Dons wouldn’t come themselves for a task like this but would send someone else in their place.
Romeo isn’t like that. Romeo is as loyal as they come.
He hugs me so hard I lose my breath and smacks my back so hard it stings. But I welcome it. It’s so fucking good to be out of there.
“Glad to have you out of there, man,” he says, releasing me. His eyes quickly assess every inch of me, from the still fresh scar on my arm, to the bandaged elbow, to the laceration that’s long since healed across my collarbone.
“Heart’s still beating,” he says. “You’re still fucking alive. That’s what matters.”
Yeah.
Some guys don’t survive prison. Some guys don’t come out the way they went in. And I learned after my first stint in the big house, it was more important for me to have good mental stamina than anything else. If I could survive the torment of solitary confinement, I could survive anything.
Most men behind bars don’t have the life experience I do. Most haven’t suffered through what I have. So I guess one could say it’s a fucking advantage.
The only one, maybe.
My heart warms when I see my brothers in the back of the Lamborghini SUV. Santo’s in the driver’s seat, grinning at me, never one to pass up a chance to drive when he can. We all have the option of drivers so we can conduct business when going places, but sometimes we like to drive ourselves. Santo never uses a driver. He owns six cars, and trades at least one of them out a quarter. Fuck, I missed the son of a bitch.
Tavi and Mario sit in the back.
“This is quite a fucking welcome home party,” I say. Romeo smiles but doesn’t reply. I wonder if he has something up his sleeve.
I notice pretty quickly that we’re not taking the route to the highway that will take us to our family home, The Castle, in Gloucester. We’re heading deep into the recesses of the City, where most of us own private residences in the high-end historical district of Beacon Hill.
“Decided it was best for you to have a night of total freedom,” Romeo says. “We have family visiting from Tuscany, and The Castle’s fucking bustling.”
“We thought that maybe you’d like to have a little peace and quiet, is what he’s saying,” Mario, my youngest brother, says with a twinkle in his eye. “And maybe a little fucking tail.” Always one to prioritize sex.
“Jesus, I love you guys,” I say, putting my head on the back of my seat and exhaling. “What I really want right now is a cold one and some good damn food.”
Santo laughs. “Told you.” Romeo and Santo share a look I can’t quite decipher.
“All right, what are you assholes up to? You got something up your sleeves, I know it.” Mario hands me a plastic container, maybe to shut me up. He’s like a modern-day James Dean with his rugged good looks and suave attitude. He melts panties when he walks down the street. “Eat, brother.”
I open it up to see a flaky, crusty calzone, straight from our kitchen. My mouth waters. I keep my head over the box so I don’t mess up the nice car, and shovel it in my mouth. I groan at the first bite. Oh God, it’s so good. One of my favorite foods, and they know it. I like all kinds of food and will eat damn near anything, but nothing beats Nonna’s spinach and sausage calzone. Pretty sure this one was meant to be shared as a family, but I polish the whole damn thing off in minutes while my brothers tell me about everything that’s happened at home.
Mama has not seen the man that she was dating. Nonna and Mama have been fighting over which cookies to make for me upon my return. Marialena has gone to grad school, but still visits The Castle frequently. And Rosa… No one wants to talk about Rosa.