Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I love these mutts,” I say with a laugh. “Good to be home, Mama. How’ve you been?”
She waves her hands in the air. “Better now that you’re home, too, Santo. Get up here and give me a kiss.”
I trot up the stairs two at a time, but she doesn’t give me a chance to give her a kiss. She grabs me by the shoulders, stands up on her tiptoes, and kisses each of my cheeks, one at a time, then repeats the gesture.
“Now, Santo, you know I’ve been cooking,” she says, waving for me to follow her. The heavy, ornate door swings open, and Romeo stands in the doorway to greet me.
A myriad of emotions swarms me at once—my first thought to deck him, to lay him out right here on the front lawn of The Castle for subjecting Rosa to the marriage he’s arranged. How fucking dare he?
I can’t do that, and we both know it. I’d be dead before he hit the ground.
I’m not even sure he knows Tavi spoke to me yet.
He’s more detached since he exiled me to Italy but can’t help the warm smile that spreads across his face at seeing me.
I bow my head to greet my Don, but he pulls me to him and kisses each cheek, just like Mama did. My throat feels weird, and my eyes burn. He may have exiled me to Tuscany and spared my life, but Romeo’s a brother to me as well. I try to repay him but can’t help but keep aloof and cold. That’s nothing new for me, though, so if he notices my reticence, he doesn’t let on.
“Welcome home, asshole,” he says affectionately in my ear, before he ruffles my hair like I’m ten. My stony heart melts a little.
“Thanks, asshole,” I say back, and quickly duck his playful jab. It’s been months since I’ve been home.
Home.
The Castle, the Rossi family home, has been the place I’ve called home since I was ten years old.
God, how I’ve missed it, even as a part of me screams inside at the injustice of it all. Of everything.
I’ve never been one to sit on my ass while the world burned around me.
I’ve always been the one to hold the fucking torch.
But now… Jesus, now… there are a world of secrets in me I’ve held for years, and a part of me wants to tell everything. But I can’t. Not yet.
They know that I had gone to Tuscany when Tavi and Elise were honeymooning there, that I had gone without permission from Romeo or a word to any of them. Everything I did smacked of betrayal, until I saved Tavi’s and Elise’s lives in a shootout with some of the Regazza family.
It was the only move that saved my life, and why I’m not buried six feet under in one of the Rossi family graveyards, or worse, an unmarked grave somewhere in Boston.
So, meeting with Romeo… seeing my Don in the flesh… feels bittersweet.
It damn near killed me to stay in Tuscany for the past few months.
“Santo’s home!” Romeo shouts, and I feel like the prodigal son as hurried footsteps sound throughout The Castle. “He’s home!”
I stand in the entrance, home but detached. My gaze travels to the huge window that overlooks the sea, giving us a full view of The Castle wall. From here, I can see the well-worn path I’ve walked thousands of times. It’s the only place on the whole damn property not covered with video surveillance. Tucked against The Castle wall, overlooking the sea, Mario—our resident techie—says video footage will be damn near impossible because of a combination of crossed interception and darkness. The only way to fix that would be to run wiring or a spotlight out there, and Mama would lose her ever-loving mind over defacing her family castle.
So it’s the one spot that’s untouched. The one black hole in the Rossi family cosmos.
And I’ve used that to my full fucking advantage.
“Santo!” Marialena trots down the stairs with a grin. The youngest of the Rossi family, Marialena’s always been like a sister to me.
“Hey,” I say warmly. I brace myself for her tackling hug, and I’m not disappointed. She throws herself at me like she’s five years old again, squeezing me so tightly I can hardly breathe.
“Not the same here without you,” she says in my ear, and her voice sounds a bit wobbly. That’s not the Marialena I know. I pull back and hold her at arm’s length, but before I can ask her any questions, Romeo’s bringing me into the Great Hall.
The Castle, as always, is teeming with people. Back in the day, when we were all kids, the Rossi family would occasionally show the public this house. It was featured in magazines and news articles, but Narciso, the late Rossi family Papa, put an end to that. He felt it was an invasion of privacy. It’s still talked about, though, and every once in a while we see tourists casually driving by and taking pictures. The dogs usually scare them away before we do.