Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Taking this job offer though would destroy any semblance of outsider status and shove us right into the high-stakes world of mafia power plays. I don’t fucking want that. I’m not interested.
“Think of the money,” he tries to persuade me. “I know you don’t care about the familia like I do.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone, and it makes my body tense. “But think of the money they’re offering.”
He has a good point. They’re offering to pay us triple our normal rate, which is significant already. The target is difficult to get to and very important, but the money is absurdly good.
A man could possibly retire with that kind of cash.
“If we do this, our lives will change,” I say, meeting his cold gaze.
“Exactly.” My father smiles, his yellowed teeth showing for only a moment before he takes another puff of his cigar.
I shake my head. “You see it as a good thing, but to me this would destroy everything we’ve built.”
His boots are heavy and his steps quick as he tosses the cigar aside. He walks up to me and suddenly grabs my jacket by the collar, bunching the fabric up in his fists. My hands clench into fists, but I wait. I’m used to this. I grew up with it.
I can see the anger in his eyes, the intense fury that dwells deep inside. It’s a darkness that eats away at him, and I know that he drinks more than he should to try and keep it at bay.
I have the same darkness inside of me. It comes out in different ways, but it’s there, slowly rotting me from the inside. I hate my father in this moment because I see myself in him, and it disgusts me. My knuckles go white and adrenaline pumps hard in my blood, but I keep it down, waiting for him to get out whatever’s on his mind.
He better do it quick, 'cause I don’t have time for this shit.
“You can’t fuck this up for me,” he growls. His face is close to mine, but I don’t move. I don’t give him the opportunity to see me weak. “The familia’s denied me for far too long. This is our chance to make things right for our family.”
Duke returns without the ball and growls at my father. It’s low and rough, from somewhere deep down in his throat.
“I’d let me go if I were you,” I say softly, cocking a brow and looking my father in the eye. Duke doesn’t have the type of control I do. But he’ll always wait for my command.
“What, you gonna send that fucking dog after me?” He scoffs, but it’s quick and panic is barely hidden beneath it.
“No,” I say, staring him down. “You know I don’t need his help.”
There’s a strained moment between us. I can see my father doing the math in his head, wondering if he could take me in a fair fight now that I’m older. We’ve come close to fighting in the past, though we've never actually traded blows. But we both know I have youth and experience on my side, and so he slowly releases me and takes a deep breath.
He picks up the cigar he dropped on the ground and takes a long puff, looking away as he walks back to the oak tree, ignoring everything that just happened. That’s what he does. Thickheaded, thin-skinned and hot-tempered. That’s the Romano in him.
I walk across the yard and bend down, picking up the ball Duke left, and throw it. Duke darts after it as if nothing happened.
“Just think about it,” he finally says, forcing me to look over my shoulder and face him. “If we kill this fucker, we can be rolling in it for a long time.”
“If we kill this fucker, we can start a war.” I bite out my words. That’s the real reason I don’t want in on this.
He shrugs, rubbing out his cigar on the tree and letting out a deep exhalation of smoke. “Let’s just wait and see what they have to say.” He glances at me, a look of determination on his face, and then heads off back toward his truck.
I don’t watch him go. I know he’s pissed, and I understand that. Fuck, I can’t even blame him, not really. Joining the familia is his lifelong dream, and if someone got in the way of what I wanted, well, I’d fucking kill them.
Too bad the old bastard needs me. The sound of his truck starting fills the chilly air as Duke comes back to me.
I’m his rightful successor. He’s getting old, too old to go on hits, and for the last two years I’ve been taking on more and more of the load. In fact, he hasn’t actually killed in nearly six months, which is strange for a man who makes his living in death.