Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
That’s what I do. I take care of my family, and right now, the best thing I can do for them is to make sure Santoro isn’t a threat anymore.
“I’ll check and make sure things are good at Brody’s end.” I get up and head to the door. “Work on Dad. When I know the details of the plan, I’ll let you know.”
Simon waves and already looks sick of the whole situation.
I step out into the hall. Davide follows me and we walk together through the don’s work house. Before we leave, my brother stops and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“How are things with him?” he asks. David’s hand is scarred and slightly melted from a fire a long time ago, and I hate being reminded of what happened to him. I’m sure he hates it even more.
“Things are good with Brody,” I admit because it’s true. Things are good, much better than I expected. “I guess now I know what you and Stefania went through.”
Davide snorts. “I fucking hope not. I don’t want to know that my sister’s having a torrid relationship.”
“With my husband,” I say, elbowing him.
“I guess that makes it better.” He sighs and turns away. “I just want to make sure you’re alright. I know it wasn’t easy at first, but…” He hesitates and shrugs again. “Brody seems like a good one. And maybe it was a good match.”
I’m honestly surprised that Davide’s expressing this much emotion to me all at once. I give him a quick hug, which makes him uncomfortable, before I let him hurry back to his house. I can’t wait to tell Stefania that Davide actually gives a shit about me, which isn’t always a given.
Brody’s waiting for me back at the house. I find him upstairs in our room, and I stop and stare at the two dresses he has laid out on the bed. My eyebrows raise when he looks over.
“Is this some new kink? You’re dressing me up?”
He smirks and gestures at the clothes. “We’re going out tonight.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know we had a formal occasion.”
“I spoke with Captain Kennedy earlier. He thinks it would be wise if we wrote a nice, fat donation check at a police union fundraiser tonight.”
I groan and point at the dresses. “They’ll be wasted on a cop party.”
“It’s for a good cause.”
“The police union is a good cause?”
He grins at me. “It’s for our good cause.”
“Fine.” I walk over and kiss him. “But I’m going to hate it.”
“Don’t act like this is your first police function.”
“Far from it, but still, I’m a Bianco. I’m not allowed to like cops.”
“Darling, nobody does.” He kisses me. “Now, either get dressed fast, or I’m going to end up wasting the night drooling over your lovely body.”
“That’s not as enticing as you think.”
Chapter 32
Elena
Ichoose a dark green conservative dress that complements Brody’s eyes. He wears his usual dark, expensive suit, and looks incredible all dressed up like that. We ride together in a Bianco town car and head into the hotel where the party’s happening. Right away I wish we were anywhere else.
Cops have their own society. It’s a job built on decades of stress, alcohol abuse, and tradition, which means the people on the inside are protective of their norms and their way of life. Some cops are decent people, but all cops are awful, mostly because the system they get thrown into demands their awfulness.
My family exploits all the little holes in their world. We find their weaknesses and we dig our claws into them. That’s how the Bianco Famiglia has gotten any police influence at all, by blackmail and bribes.
Brody Quinn is different. He’s almost a part of this world himself. He greets a dozen different people the moment we walk in through the door, greeting them by name, mentioning details about their lives, complimenting their wives as if they grew up together. And as he begins to explain, that’s exactly what they did.
The Irish on the south side have another world. Like gears inside of gears. The neighborhood is a society too, its own little web of friendships, marriages, and societies. Which means when an Irish kid from down the block becomes a cop and winds his way through the ranks, he’s got friends on the other side of the line, friends that do shady shit for a living. Friends like Brody and Brody’s siblings.
There’s clearly still money changing hands. Captain Kennedy’s an example of that. But Brody is honestly well-liked by some of the people here, and he doesn’t stand out at all.
Except I do.
“Can’t believe you’d bring a fucking Bianco, Brody,” a little pale Irishman says. He’s a detective with a shit-eating grin named Dermot Byrne.
“She’s my wife,” Brody says, putting an arm over my shoulder, and I notice the tick in his jaw again. He’s smiling and pretending like it’s all jokes, but he doesn’t like this.