Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir.” I raise my glass. “Anything else?”
“You want worse?”
“Not particularly, but I wouldn’t presume.”
“You’re such a dick.” He smiles though, tight and small, like he’s trying to hold it back. “You know you’re getting off easy, right?”
God damn right I am. By rights, I should be dead. Nobody would blame Stellan for putting a bullet in the back of my head. The other Capos will grumble that I’m not being dragged over burning coals by my toenails for this, but giving them my property, and I’m guessing a big chunk of my tribute, will go a long way toward keeping them happy.
It’ll hurt financially. Three years is a long time. But I have other investments, I have my savings, and best of all—
I have my wife.
“All I know is, my life is for the Corsetti and I bleed for the Don.” I bow my head so he can’t see me grinning in return. “Your will is mine to obey.”
“Oh fuck off, Prime.” Stellan slumps behind his desk and raises his glass. “Here’s to starting over. Did I ever tell you how much we got from the Fontana outfit in the end?”
“You never mentioned it.”
“Turns out his Capos aren’t half bad. You’re going to keep an eye on them still, but I’m pleased so far. They’re not loyal, but they could be, given the right incentives.”
“Fontana had incentives until he didn’t.”
“I’m not that old bastard.”
“Damn right you aren’t.”
He turns his glass idly in his right hand. “I hear his house burned a couple weeks back. The police were investigating potential arson and homicide, but there were some whispers, some favors called, and it seems everything checks out clean.”
“That’s very good to hear.”
“His wife’s down in Florida now. She’s got a sister there.”
“I wouldn’t worry about her.”
“I’m not, just mentioning it. I can’t remember the last time you let a witness walk free.”
I turn to the window and stroke my face. “Call me soft, I guess.”
“Prime Spadaro? Going soft? Not in my lifetime.”
We finish our drinks slowly and talk about the old days. It’s good spending time with my friend now that there’s nothing hiding between us. Fontana’s dead; I’ll eat my punishment and savor it; life will go on. He walks me to the door when we’re finished.
“Give my best to Kira and the kid.”
“Will do.” Stellan grips my shoulder. “You sure you’re good?”
“Never been more sure in my life.”
I take the long way home. Deanna’s waiting but I have a few more things to consider before talking to her, but it’s strange, the way I never dread it, even if what I have to say won’t be easy. Deanna has a way of cutting through the bullshit. It’s like all my choices get whittled down to what’s right.
I find her in the living room curled up in front of a laptop. She’s squinting at new swimwear. “Hey, Prime, what do you think of this?” She shows me a bikini that will cover about one inch of her ass.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“Come on, it’s the way they all are these days. Cheeky is hot.”
“My wife’s cheeks are for me and me alone.”
She laughs and clicks the order button. “God, you’re going to lose your mind this summer.”
I clench my jaw, but there’s no turning back now. I kneel down beside her and hold out a sheaf of papers. She glances up, looks back to her screen, but does a double-take as her eyes go wide.
“Deanna, I love you.” I take the top few pages and rip them in half. “I fell for you the second I hired you.” I rip more papers. She reaches out to stop me, but I swat her away. “I knew you’d ruin me sooner or later, only I didn’t know I needed to be ruined. But now here I am, a better man for it. Free from shit I should’ve left behind a long time ago. Happy to look forward to whatever we have coming ahead of us. And now I want to free you too.”
I finish ripping up our marriage contract.
“What the hell, Prime?”
“Relax, it’s symbolic. I have an actual contractual change getting drafted right now.”
“But why?” She puts the laptop aside and sits up straight. “Did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me? I know I’ve been lazy these last few days. I left work early—“
“Deanna, baby, you think I’m ripping up our fucking marriage contract because you took off at four instead of five? I didn’t even know.”
“It was two-thirty,” she whispers, looking down at her lap. “I know. I’m ashamed.”
“Baby.” I take her hands in mine, struggling not to laugh. “You can leave whenever you damn well please. You’re fucking the boss, remember?”
“Then what’s happening?”
I lift her hands to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. “I want to do this right. I want to do it all right. I want you to be my wife, no strings, no clauses, nothing between us. If you want that, tell me now. We do this for real.”