Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
But the way the girl’s looking at Tommy is an entirely new level.
It’s like he’s the purest form of evil in the world. It’s like he’s a jungle parasite and she wants to stomp him out with her boot. She’s looking at him like she’d happily slice his throat and smile and laugh as his blood pumps all over her hands.
Then the look’s gone and Tommy’s drinking his whiskey and the girl hurries from the lounge like nothing just happened.
But an idea hits me.
It’s a bad idea, probably an idea born of lust mixed with a mild obsession, but it nags at me for the rest of the meeting. I keep thinking about that look on Claudia’s face, the depth of her disgust, the pure white-hot loathing, and I wonder if I can use it.
By the time I leave my former lieutenant to keep on running the club that I built with my own fucking hands, I decide that sometimes plans need to change in light of new information.
Chapter 4
Angelo
Home felt like heaven for about a day.
But it became clear how much has changed, and I don’t feel like I understand my place in everything anymore.
Dad and Mom are mostly holed up in their house. Dad rarely comes outside anymore and I only saw him once, very briefly, before he retreated into his lair again. I’m aware of what happened with him and Santoro, the whole, ugly story, and I don’t hold that shit against him. People love who they love, and Dad chose Mom back then. So what if he had an affair with a guy? My only issue is that he held onto that relationship for far too long to the detriment of the whole Famiglia and he nearly let it ruin all our lives. But it’s over now. Santoro’s dead, and we’re all trying to move on from the shock.
Meanwhile, Simon’s in charge, and he’s got a new little baby boy named Jeremy. He’s the first grandkid and everyone’s making a real big deal about him. Davide and his wife are fucking disgustingly adorable, which is bizarre—I never knew the big guy was capable of those kinds of feelings. Then there’s Elena and Brody. She doesn’t even live in the oasis anymore after marrying the head of the Irish mob, which feels bizarre. I don’t know Brody yet, but Elena promises he’s a good guy, and I have to believe her.
Which leaves Laura. My youngest sister. And the only person who seems like she’s exactly the same as I left her.
“Get out of my house, Angelo.” Laura glares at me from behind her kitchen island.
I ignore her and look around. The place is almost unchanged. Art covers the walls, hanging on almost every surface, and her style of furniture trends toward second-hand chic. Little statues line the shelves, and there are a few sculptures in varying states of work scattered around.
Leave it to my weirdo little sister to hold down the fort for me.
“Don’t be like that.” I head over to the back door and peer into the yard. “Are those your hands?”
“They got shot.”
I laugh and open the door. Sure enough, half the hands have bullet holes in them. Laura painted blood around most of them and crafted bones and sinew where pieces chipped off.
“That was during the attack?” I ask as she joins me.
“Not the best time,” she says with a tight frown. “Everyone was a mess after.”
“How about you? Were you okay?”
“Oh, I had a blast.”
I genuinely can’t tell if she’s kidding. Instead of trying to parse her humor, I head back to the island and take a seat on a stool. She reluctantly makes us both some coffee and I smile to myself.
My little sister’s always been reclusive. Even before her accident, she kept to herself, but it only got worse afterward. I’m the only person in our whole family she ever let into her house for more than a few minutes, and for the first time since I got out of prison, I feel like it’s the old days.
“Tell me straight. What are things like these days with Simon leading the Famiglia?”
Laura shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. “He’s fine. Leaves me alone.”
“Quit pretending like you’re not totally plugged in. It’s me, Laur. Give me the details.”
She hesitates. Then a little smile cracks her stony glare.
Because no matter how strange my sister acts, no matter how hard she likes to pretend that she’s not interested in the world outside of her house and her cuckoo little art projects, she’s deeply obsessed with the Famiglia.
Which is how I learn all about Simon’s projects post-Santoro, about Davide’s businesses, about Elena and Brody’s buildings on the waterfront, about the gossip with the capos and the guards and the soldiers, about everything I need to know that nobody else would tell me.