Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Dante arched a brow. “How so?”
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe. Won’t know unless you tell me why.”
Naz sighed. “He just ribs me all the time. You know? Won’t let shit go. Puts me on the spot. Always on my damn ass.”
Dante nodded, tipping his chin up as though he’d heard that exact sentiment before. “In a bad way, though, or in a way that teaches you how to keep control of yourself through building your character?”
Well, that made Naz think.
“I’m not sure,” he finally muttered.
“Yeah, it’s usually later that you figure it out. Probably a little harder on you than it was for me,” Dante noted, cocking his head to the side, “because see, I had two brothers going through the same shit with their own enforcers. It’s a rite of passage, Naz ... because if they don’t get on your nerves and teach you how to hide it, then you’ll never fucking learn.”
“Dad never said his enforcer—”
His grandfather barked out a laugh. “His? His was ten times worse—would taunt him non-stop, smacked him in the back of the head whenever he could get away with it, drove him up the fucking wall constantly. Whenever Cross went into one of his moods and took off, who do you think hunted his ass down and brought him home? And do you know where that enforcer is today?”
Naz really had to consider that.
“Dead?”
Because that’s where he probably should be.
Dante smiled. “No, he’s your father’s consigliere. Has been since Cross took over the family. Because as much as he hated that man growing up, he was still one of his closest, most trusted people.”
“Ronnie isn’t that bad,” Naz muttered.
“Maybe he doesn’t have to be ... or maybe your dad just knew who would work best for you, hmm?” Dante shrugged, and then reached out to clap a hand on Naz’s shoulder before he pulled him into the familiar house. “We all had the same shit to handle, Naz, and so will you. Your grandmother is in the kitchen. She’s making lasagna and garlic bread.”
Which meant he needed to help.
Naz heard what Dante didn’t say.
“Got it.”
Naz found his grandmother in the kitchen, just like Dante said he would. However, his grandfather hadn’t been entirely right because Catrina wasn’t actually cooking. She had simply pulled out some pots and dishes, all the groceries needed to make supper, and put them on the counter.
“Waiting for me?” he asked.
Catrina turned on him with a smile. There was a familiarity about his grandmother’s face that always made him feel welcomed—his mother looked so much like her mother. And even his sister took those same, pretty feminine features.
“Actually,” Catrina said, “I’m not going to be cooking today.”
“But—”
“You are.”
Naz laughed. “You want me to cook? Alone?”
“Why not? I think I’ve cooked for you more than enough, no? It’s only fair that you cook me a nice dinner, and entertain me while you do it.”
Naz grinned.
That was typical for his grandmother.
Always keeping him on his toes.
“And what if I fuck it all up?”
“You won’t. You can’t. I’m here.”
Donati Shorts
Cal and the Princess
Emma moved through the house with Midnight fast on her heels. She could hear the quiet murmurings coming from the back of the house—near Calisto’s office. It couldn’t be Cross and his father. Cross had gone with Wolf and his wife for the weekend for a visit to Canada.
Business, likely.
Sometimes, Emma wondered if their son was still too young for business, but she didn’t think on it for long. Cross wasn’t always seeing business when he traveled with his father, or Wolf. Sometimes, it was just to let him go with his Godfather, and get him off their hands for a while.
A break was good.
Once in a while.
“No, Daddy, like this,” Emma heard their three-year-old daughter say.
“Ah, okay. I see.”
“Yes!” Tiny hands clapped loudly. “Good job, Daddy!”
Emma scooped Midnight up off the floor to keep him from barking. He settled happily into her arms, and sniffed around as she walked the rest of the way down the hall. Peeking her head into the office, she found a sight that melted her heart in an instant.
Calisto had moved practically everything from his desk for Camilla to set all of her makeup—children’s makeup, of course—on the top. Everything from her lipglosses, to her compact blushes, and even her nail polishes.
And God knew ... the girl had a collection.
Frankly, she had more makeup than her mother, and that was saying something.
It looked like Camilla had brought down each and every damn piece of makeup she owned to set on her father’s desk. It covered just about the whole top. Calisto had even brought the mirror from the hallway into the office, and set it up next to the desk.
He and Cam, on the other hand, sat on the floor together in front of the mirror.
“So, how do we do this one?” Calisto asked, holding up what looked like a small eyeshadow pallet.