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)
It had, sort of.
Dante’s phone buzzed, taking his gaze down to where his son was holding the device. A call lit up the screen, but because he had it on silent, it made no noise. It didn’t matter. Michel knew just from playing with his father’s phone time and time again how to reject a call.
The thing Dante forgot?
Rejecting or accepting a call automatically unlocked his phone—a stupid glitch, he always thought, which was why he needed to suck it up and get a new one even if he hated changing phones.
It took all of a half of a second for Michel to hit the home screen button twice, which brought up all the apps that were running on the background of the device. His son just happened to hit the right app—the one with the recording.
Softly, the sound of galloping hooves whispered down the pew as his baby’s heartbeat came out of the phone’s speakers. All eyes turned on him again. Catrina was already reaching for the phone, but Dante?
He just laughed.
Because ... of course.
Of course, it would happen like this.
He didn’t doubt anyone in his family was unaware of what that sound was. His brothers had their own children—his mother had two biological children.
Yes, they knew what that damn sound was.
It was his mother who spoke first. Always quiet in church. Always respectful of Mass, and the service they had come to watch. Always making sure her children understood to sit down and shut up until it was over.
“Was that what I thought it was. Antony, was that what I thought—”
“I don’t know. Dante?”
“Yes, Ma,” Dante murmured. “That’s what you thought it was.”
He expected the rest of his family to at least keep quiet for the last two minutes or so of mass. They didn’t. His brothers started first—standing from the pew with loud congratulations and strong hugs coming his way. His parents followed right after.
A whole church watched as the Marcellos celebrated.
They probably didn’t understand.
He really didn’t give a damn.
Winning
“You’re sure?” Lucian asked.
Dante nodded.
Gio smirked. “And you’re pissed off like nothing else.”
Dante nodded again.
“How’d you find out?” Lucian asked.
“Gaetano is in town,” Dante informed.
Even his tone came off as cold and detached. It was easier this way. Easier to take his emotions out of the equation and just handle the situation. He could deal with his anger and Catrina later. Right now, he just needed to focus on finding his wife and putting her ridiculous need to hide things from him to bed.
“That tells me nothing,” Lucian said.
Dante took a corner sharply, sending his unbuckled brothers swinging in their seats.
“Slow the hell down,” Lucian grumbled. “I have a toddler, a newborn and a wife to go home to, Dante. Fucking hell.”
“Jesus, are you trying to get us killed?” Gio barked.
“You do remember the time you drove Dad’s Mercedes into the telephone pole while Lucian and me were sleeping in the backseat, right?” Dante asked. “Let’s go to a party, you said, it’ll be fun. Oh, waking up with a bloody mouth and a broken rib was all kinds of fun, asshole. Sober driver for once in your goddamn life, Gio, and you nearly killed all three of us in the process.”
Gio quieted.
“That’s what I thought,” Dante muttered.
“I swerved to miss a raccoon!”
“There was no raccoon dead on the road,” Lucian argued.
“Because I swerved to miss it, dumbass,” Gio growled.
“Oh, shut up, the both of you.”
“Still no raccoon,” Lucian said under his breath.
Dante barely caught the sight of Gio’s fist slamming into the shoulder of his oldest brother before the youngest Marcello brother was back in his seat like nothing had even happened. Lucian rubbed at his shoulder with a scowl that could rival the devil.
This was why he called his brothers tonight.
Because they were grown ass men.
Because they were best friends.
And sometimes it still felt like they were teenagers tearing up pavement together. Even with kids, wives, mortgages, and Cosa Nostra chasing their asses daily.
Sometimes ...
“Anyway, I found out Gaetano is in town,” Dante said again.
“So?” Lucian asked.
“So, he only comes in from LA when he’s got business to discuss. Now, I don’t mind Catrina doing her thing, or discussing ventures. She’s safe with Gae, he’ll take care of her.”
“They’re close, right?” Gio asked as he lit up a cigarette in the back seat.
“Yeah.”
That was a bit of an understatement.
Catrina and Gaetano might as well have been best friends, as far as Dante was concerned. The closeness between the two could rival the closeness he shared with his wife.
Dante didn’t mention that to his brothers, though.
Fact was simple—he wasn’t jealous of Gaetano or the relationship the man had with Cat. Why would he be jealous? It wasn’t like Gaetano had any interest in what was going on between Catrina’s legs or getting up under her dress what with his preference for men. Besides, Cat didn’t have a lot of friends as it was. The ones she did have, she kept close. Like Gaetano. Dante wasn’t about to take that away from his wife.