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)
I try to steady my breath, but it’s so fucking cold out, just breathing hurts.
The man shadowing me is all I can think about. I didn’t even pay attention when I turned the corner down the alley.
* * *
I was so consumed by what was behind me, I didn’t see who was right in front of me until it was too late.
Chapter 4
Gio
* * *
The Green Parrot is crowded as usual. It’s a popular place in a shit neighborhood on the South Side of Chicago. We come here all the time to meet with potential clients, but usually it’s just to pick up payments.
Tonight, the stakes are higher. I sit at a table with my father, a glass of whisky in my hand while he puffs away on his cigar. I take a long sip and glance at him.
“Let me do the talking,” I say.
“Why?” he grunts.
“Because I’ll be the one doing the job.” My voice is hard, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m the elder here. They came to me.”
“No,” I say, trying to keep my annoyance under control. “If you want to do the talking, you can do the killing.”
He looks at me, eyebrows raised. “That how it is now?”
I stare back at him, but we both know I’m bluffing. My father may be a piece of shit asshole, but I owe him everything. He’s still family, even if sometimes I wish he wasn’t. Without him, my darkness would have consumed me a long, long time ago. But at the same time, it’s because of him that it’s even there.
I don’t have a chance to respond because up toward the front of the bar, the doors open and grab my attention. In walks Marco Romano, the second-in-command, and second most important man in the entire familia, followed by Alex and Angelo, two of my cousins. They’re there for muscle and show, but they aren’t necessary.
Nobody would dare touch Marco. He has the full weight of the Romano familia behind him, and any dumb fuck that came at him would invite the wrath of the whole fucking mob down on his head. They’d go for his family and torture them all in front of him and then kill him. The Romanos don’t fuck around.
The tips of my fingers trail up and down the glass as they walk into the bar.
“They sent Marco,” my father says to me underneath his breath, sounding surprised.
I have to admit that I’m surprised as well. Normally we don’t deal with the top members of the Romano familia, at least not in person. Sending Marco here to talk with us is an honor. As much as I don’t want to get too involved, I do feel a surge of pride that they’re showing us this respect.
But it also means that this hit is very, very important to them. I knew that when we got the target, but now it’s very clear how seriously they’re taking it. My eyes dip to the floor and my body heats as I realize how pissed off they’re going to be when I turn them down. I can already see that my father’s excited and fucking delighted that they sent someone as powerful as Marco to this deal, and he stands up to show the proper respect.
I stand also as the men approach the table, but I’m prepared to disappoint them. I don’t give a fuck who asks me to do it. I’m not going to be held responsible for this shit.
“Bruno,” Marco says with a smirk, “you look good, you old bastard.”
“Marco.” My father and Marco shake hands. I’m pretty sure that they’re very distant cousins, maybe related by a distant marriage. I’m not sure. It’s all so fucking boring and complicated though. They’re no family to me.
“Gio,” Marco says, turning to me. We shake hands. “You look just like your mother.”
“Thanks,” I say. I suspect the reference to my mother was designed to throw me off balance, but I keep my face and tone neutral.
“Sit, sit,” my father says quickly, gesturing to the empty seats. Marco takes a seat at the head of the table, the feet of the chair scratching along the floor as he pulls it out. Alex and Angelo sit at a nearby table without another word, looking serious and tough.
I give them a little grin, but they don’t look at me, and don't make eye contact. I know they’re afraid of me, and have been since we were all boys. I remember when I was ten and Angelo was thirteen. He tried to take my bike, and I beat the fucking piss out of him. He’s been afraid of me ever since then.
And he should be fucking afraid.
“I’m honored that you came to this meeting,” my father says, practically deep throating Marco’s cock. I straighten my shoulders and turn my attention to Marco.