Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I was going to have her. Aida was mine, body and soul. I was going to marry that girl, make her my wife, and get her pregnant. I’d keep her fucked and happy, wrapped in furs, covered in diamonds. I’d give her anything she wanted, so long as she was mine, every inch.
There was no going back for me, not anymore.
“He can go ahead and try,” I grunted.
Steven just shook his head, and we drove back into the city without another word.
14
Aida
I ate my breakfast in silence as Gino took his spot on the couch. He didn’t turn on the TV, he just sat back and looked at his phone. There was a gun on the coffee table in front of him, and as I stood up to clean the dishes, I lingered in the kitchen and stared at it for a long moment.
“Can I ask you something?”
He turned and looked at me with a frown. “If you have to.”
I smiled. “Your boss mentioned it to me yesterday.”
He cocked his head. “Dante?”
“No. Don Leone.”
He grunted. “Never met him before yesterday,” he said. “Only ever saw him from a distance, and only when Dante met with him.”
“Well, he mentioned something about how you and Dante got together.”
Gino smiled a little. “I’m surprised he knows that story.”
“Apparently he does.” I tilted my head a little. “Would you tell me?”
His smile disappeared. “I don’t know.”
“Please?” I leaned forward on the counter. “I want to get to know Dante better, but it’s hard, you know?”
“He’s not the kind of man that makes himself known very easily.”
“Right. It’s like pulling teeth. So I was hoping maybe… maybe you could tell me something. You know, that would help me get to know him better.”
Gino hesitated. He glanced away for a second and I could tell he was wrestling with what to do. But then he nodded his head and stood. “Make me some coffee. Then I’ll tell you.”
I grinned. “Deal.”
He sat down at the table, took out a cigarette, and lit it up. He smoked while I made a fresh pot. When it was done, I brought him a cup, and sat down across from him, frowning at the cigarette.
“He doesn’t mind,” Gino said, stubbing it out on the saucer I’d brought over with the coffee cup. “But I’ll put it out.”
“Thanks.” I leaned back in my chair as he took a sip of his drink. “So, how did you and Dante meet?”
“I was thirteen,” he said. “Dante was a few years older. He and Steven ran this little crew, you know? Not soldiers, not made or anything. Not even associates. They did petty shit, beat up kids for cash, shook them down and stuff like that. Stole bikes and sold them back. Little things, but they were making money, way more money than any other kids at that age could handle. They started selling drugs, just little shit like weed, no big deal. I think that’s how he got involved with the Leone family at the start, but I’m not sure.” Gino hesitated for a second and took a sip of coffee.
“Go on,” I say gently.
“You really want to hear this shit?” he asked. “I thought you were a good person. Didn’t want to get involved with gangsters and thugs.”
I hesitated. “I don’t love that he sold drugs.”
Gino laughed. “How do you think we make most our money?”
I just shrugged. “I didn’t think about it.”
“We sell anything with a market. Stolen shit, drugs, pills, protection. That’s what he did back then, too. He’s never been a saint.”
“I know that.”
“Better not forget it.” Gino took a breath and shook his head. “I thought I was a badass back then. I had this little business where I’d steal candy out the back of this bodega that didn’t lock its back door during the day. I’d snatch some candy and sell it to the younger kids, made a little money, got a big head and thought I could do better. So I approached some older guys and tried to buy some big weight, just some weed, but enough of it that I could sell and make a profit.
“Older guys took me back into this abandoned lot. I had like, five hundred dollars in candy money. It was a small fortune, every fucking penny I made over a couple years stealing and doing odd jobs like shoveling driveways and mowing lawns. I was gonna get as much weed with that five hundred as I could then sell all that and turn five hundred into five thousand.”
He paused and I leaned toward him. “I guess that’s not what happened.”
“Nah, it’s not.” He took a breath. “Guys took me to this parking lot down south near the stadiums, across the street from the park. Threw me out and started kicking my ass. But that five hundred, it was all I had in the world, you know? My dad was a drunk, my mom was working two jobs just to keep shit straight. I had that money and the clothes on my back, nothing else, and I couldn’t just let them take it from me. So I fought back, gave pretty good, but there were three of them and they were way older than me. Just some local punks, looking back on it, but I thought they really were made men, you know?