Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“He’s right, honey,” Mom says, going over to put a hand on his arm. She kneels down at his side. “He’s right. We need you back, but we can’t have you back if you’re the Don. You have to let it go.”
“I’m still the Don,” Dad says but there’s less venom in his voice, less fight. He stares at his family, his face going slack and empty, the color draining away. His hand trembles as he lifts the glass to his lips and takes a long drink. He chugs it down, draining the alcohol to the dregs.
“It’s time, Dad.” Elena’s voice next. “We love you. It’s time.”
Laura steps up beside her. “They’re right.” That’s all she says. That’s all she needs to say.
Davide comes to my side. “We love you, Dad. It’s time to retire. If Angelo were here, he’d say the same thing. It’s time.”
Outside, the sirens are getting louder, and we’re going to need real leadership if we’re going to survive the shitstorm that’s about to be unleashed on this damn city.
Dad closes his eyes and puts his glass back down on his desk. Nobody moves, and for a second, I think he’s about to finally give in.
But he gives an ugly gag, pukes blood onto the floor, and slumps off his chair as Mom screams.
Chapter 48
Emily
It’s all over the news: a gas leak caused multiple explosions on a residential block, ending with multiple casualties.
Gas leak. That’s the story they’re going with. I have no idea how much money Simon’s passing around to keep the truth out of the news reports, but it’s got to be substantial, because nobody believes it.
Online, the conspiracy people are going nuts. And for good reason. It’s not like Chicago went deaf during the shootout. The whole damn city heard what happened, and the powers that be want to blame it on a gas leak.
No wonder people don’t trust the media.
I creep down the unfamiliar steps at around five in the morning. The house is quiet and empty, and I pause to look at a family photo of the whole Bianco clan. Laura looks so young, barely six years old, and all the boys are lined up like little princes. Elena’s clinging onto her mother, and Alessandro Bianco’s standing over them all, beaming at his little crew of loves. It breaks my heart, and I keep going, downstairs and toward the library.
Simon’s behind the big desk. It used to belong to his father, but I guess it belongs to him now. He’s exhausted with big bags under his eyes and he’s hunched over a computer, writing another email to yet another state senator or whoever he’s bothering today, and barely looks up as I go over and give him a gentle kiss.
“Did you come to bed last night?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Simon, you need to sleep.”
“I will once everything is settled.” He puts a hand on my leg. I glance at the far end of the desk where a bottle of Japanese whiskey is sitting. It hasn’t moved since the attack three days ago and I wish he would get rid of it, but I guess he can’t bring himself to throw it away.
“How’s he doing?” I ask gently.
Simon leans back in the chair and sighs. He closes his eyes as I slip down into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. I lean against his chest, listening to the steady patter of his heart.
“If he had used a bigger glass, he’d be dead right about now,” he says very softly. “That’s what the doctor told me last night. His stupid obsession with fancy glassware saved his life. He’s in bad shape, but he’s alive.”
“What was it? Did they figure it out?”
“Rat poisoning. Superwarfarin rodenticide is what they told me.” Simon squeezes me tight against him. “I never in a million years would’ve thought Dad might try to kill himself. I guess he thought—” Simon stops and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know what he thought. Maybe that there was no other way out for him.”
“God, Simon. I’m so, so sorry.” I stay buried against him and wish I could do something to draw the hurt away, because I know at least a little of what he’s going through. What happened to my father left a deep scar inside me. It’s not easy seeing a parent go through something so horrifying. Except Simon’s situation is ten times worse than mine.
“He’s alive and we’re going to help him. Right now, believe it or not, I have bigger problems to deal with.”
“You’re right, you do, but you won’t be able to fix anything if you don’t get some rest.”
“Baby—” he starts, but I decide to force the issue by grinding my ass against his crotch. He grunts and I know he likes it.