Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"You still haven't articulated anything that makes sense."
"If you're attracted to Nico, don't let this mob perception deter you. He's not who you evidently believe him to be."
"He's not a Don?"
Gianna surveys the bar before continuing, "The fact I'm even contemplating sharing any of this with you shows how exceptional you are, Sienna. I'm not suggesting you should feel grateful or impressed, or... anything. But I want you to understand, despite our brief acquaintance, I value you. Your artistry, certainly, and you as an individual."
I resist the urge to let her words flatter or disarm me. I’m trying to remember who I am: the way my mother died. The blood. The agony, physical for her, psychological for me. But in this moment, Gianna exudes vulnerability and empathy.
"I like you too," I admit awkwardly.
"My son is the Don, and I serve as his consigliere... his second-in-command."
Fortunately, the music in the bar is loud enough, as my audible gasp would have attracted attention otherwise. "What?"
She nods. "It's difficult to explain—"
"Try," I interject.
"It would mean discussing our history somewhat."
"I have nowhere pressing to be."
Gianna nods. "Very well. The Family – that's with a capital F – was previously governed by my husband, and subsequently my late son, Luka. Both differed significantly from Nico."
"In what manner?"
"Nico has a compassionate heart. Don't misinterpret me – and I won't lie to you – Nico can summon the necessary fortitude when circumstances demand, but he takes no pleasure from inflicting pain. He doesn't harm innocents. He doesn't revel in saturating the streets with filth that virtually guarantees overdoses. He genuinely abhors the entire business, truthfully."
"Yet he remains involved, nonetheless."
"I'm getting to that," Gianna says.
I gesture for her to go on.
"When his father died," she continues, "Nico declined leadership of the Family. He wanted nothing to do with it. From an early age, he was like that. He dreamed of attending college, leading a normal life. And for years, he did just that. Luka was the heir; Nico was the spare. Nico established himself as a hedge fund manager. He maintained minimal communication with his father and brother."
"Why – because they differed from his principles?"
"Nico has a kind soul," Gianna says.
I suppress the urge to confess. I know. I've sensed that. I feel it when we kiss. I see it in the shadows and shades of his expressions.
Maybe all that online research and charitable activity is the real him.
"My late husband got his hooks in Luka early, molding him in his own image."
"What exactly were their activities?"
She stares at me bleakly, her mood darkening considerably. "You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do."
"Sienna, I must emphasize—"
"Jeez. I'm not a cop. Or a spy. I'm nobody significant."
"Now that’s not true."
"I simply want to understand who this man truly is," I say.
This stranger who doesn’t feel like a stranger. This man who makes me consider that perhaps I was wrong when I thought flirting and fun, and relationships weren’t for me.
"My late husband, and subsequently Luka upon assuming the Don position, flooded the city with drugs, prostitution, and extortion rackets. Collaborating with the Russians, they transformed this city into a cesspool."
"But not Nico?"
She shakes her head. "Nico was disgusted by it all. He tried to dissuade them, but they remained obstinate. Once, when he threatened to report them, my late husband..." Gianna's eyes glisten. "He threatened my life if Nico persisted. After his passing, Luka perpetuated that threat: guards monitoring me constantly, ready to eliminate me."
"Oh my God," I whisper.
"Then Luka perished in a car accident. Nico had two options: allow the Family to fall into one of Luka's equally corrupt men’s hands, or assume control himself. He opted for the latter. He worked harder than any man ever should, but he succeeded."
“Succeeded is what?"
"Purifying the city," Gianna says, awe resonating in her voice. Her pride in Nico overwhelms me, inexplicably inspiring my admiration for him. "He ended the mob conflict. He band narcotics, human trafficking, and all similar enterprises. He redirected the Family toward white-collar crime. He legitimized as many operations as feasible. I've never disclosed any of this to a civilian."
"Yes, yes, I'm extraordinarily special," I mutter sarcastically.
"You are," she replies with complete sincerity. "Nico cares about—"
"We're practically strangers."
"Fine. But for the first time in years, Nico has the desire to connect with someone. That signifies something profound for him."
"It means something to me, too," I admit.
"Nico enlisted me to help him covertly – to maintain the city's positive trajectory. He’s devoted himself entirely to safeguarding this city, preventing corruption from infiltrating his territory. He's not a bad man. I recognize true malevolence: my husband, God help me, my eldest son. But not Nico."
"Nico told me that Russians were responsible for my mother's death. He claims that during the gunfight where she was killed, Russians were targeting an Italian. Is that true?"