Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Me: On it.
After forwarding the text to Eddy, our IT guy, I head down to the docks to check on things. Recently, we’ve had a few issues with shipments, but ever since my sister, Brielle, killed Anthony—when he came after Dominick’s son, wanting revenge on Andrey for taking the Rothschild heir when he forced my sister to have an abortion several years ago—they’ve stopped, which tells us that it was him causing the issues, despite the fact that he didn’t have the money or resources. And the final words he spoke before he took his last breath were that we had no idea what we were in for and that we hadn’t won. Whatever the fuck that meant.
Afterward, I check on my guys who are handling shit in South Harbor Point, and thankfully, everything is quiet. Protection payments are being made, nobody is fucking with the businesses, and the waterfront expansion project is still on track.
Once I’m home, I call my contact, who works for the city, regarding the bullshit citations Lucian’s Gym received, then order myself dinner.
With my condo being so quiet, I can’t help but think about how much things have changed so quickly.
One minute, Brielle was in Russia, mourning the loss of her boyfriend, who had been killed by Andrey, and her unborn baby, who might’ve been her boyfriend’s or Anthony’s; our mom was traveling the world to help her get past Andrey’s death and find herself once again; and Dominick and I were working our asses off to expand Antonov Enterprises and do damage control, thanks to the shit show Andrey had left us.
And the next minute, Dominick found out he had a three-year-old son named Damien and was falling in love with Damien’s mom, Peyton. My brother had gone from a perpetual bachelor to a family man in the blink of an eye, complete with a new wife, son, and twins on the way.
Wanting to give my brother and his family some privacy and wanting a bit of my own, I insisted on moving into one of the condos we owned.
For the most part, I don’t regret getting my own place when we made the decision to sell our family home, but sometimes, I miss the chaos.
My nephew running through the house with cookies in his hands. My sister talking shit. My brother fawning over his wife. I’d imagine it’s only gotten worse since she gave birth to their twins.
I consider calling Lorenzo, but he’s probably settled in for the night with his fiancée, who I can’t stand. I might not be able to prove it, but I know she’s up to something, and once I figure out what it is, it’s game on with that bitch.
I click through the shows on Netflix while I eat, unable to pick anything to watch, and when I can’t take the silence anymore, I go to bed. It’s only ten fucking p.m. What the hell has my life become?
Maybe I’ll go visit my brother in the morning. Remind myself why I wanted my own place.
Eddy: On March 14, Henry Thomas married Daniella Russo, which is fucking strange since, the last time I checked, dead men can’t get married.
Using the text-to-speech feature, I replay the text, stunned at what he just implied.
Me: Spell it out for me, man. This is Russo’s little sister.
Eddy: He stole someone’s identity. I don’t know who she married, but it wasn’t Henry Thomas. He died several years ago from cancer.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
I consider texting Lorenzo to tell him, but this isn’t something you text.
Me: Russo, we gotta talk about Henry. Call me when you get this.
“Do you want to hold Justin?” Peyton asks, forcing me to look up from my phone.
I texted my brother, asking if they were up for company, and of course, he said I was welcome anytime. So, I brought breakfast, figuring they could use a ready-to-eat meal since they’ve been a little busy with their four-year-old and newborn twins.
“Nah.” I chuckle, pocketing my phone. “Pretty sure I would break him or drop him.”
Peyton looks like she’s about to argue again when my phone buzzes in my pocket at the same time Daniil, one of Dominick’s guards, walks in.
“Boss,” he says to Dominick, “we have an issue.”
Great. Those words spoken from Daniil are never good.
“What’s going on?” Dominick asks as I walk over to join them.
The last thing my brother needs is to deal with shit with newborns at home. Whatever is going on, I’ll handle it.
“The police are here,” Daniil says, “and they’re looking for Matteo. They have a warrant for his arrest.”
Fucking fabulous. Just what I needed this morning.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask the officer.
He steps inside and starts reading me my rights, but when he gets to the part about why I’m being arrested, I can’t help but scoff.