Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Evening, darling,” he says, kissing her softly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I thought I’d introduce Mirella to Casso before dinner.” Karah glances back at me, smiling as she puts her hands on her husband’s chest and gives him another quick kiss. “Think that’s a good idea?”
Nico seems thoughtful. “It’s good timing, actually. We were just discussing her.”
“Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, except we have a surprise.” Nico’s face clouds as he glances back at me. I frown back, not sure what that expression means, but he seems considerate like he’s studying me. Karah looks a little concerned, but before she can say anything, Nico drags her into the office with him and beckons me to follow.
I step in after them. Nico and Karah stand to my right near a fireplace that’s currently cold and dead. Ash streaks the interior walls. A buck head hangs above the mantle—strange for Phoenix—and beyond that, books are crammed onto shelves, fancy books with leather binding and gold titles. Other small statues, awards, and photographs fill the spaces, and my eyes take it all in before I slowly turn to my left.
Casso Bruno sits behind a big mahogany desk. He’s leaning back in his chair with a glass of something brown in his hand, head tilted to the side. Fynn’s sitting in a chair in front of him, also cradling a drink. He looks somewhat pained, like he wishes I weren’t there.
And sitting in the chair next to Fynn is a man I recognize. A man whose face is locked deep into my memory, so deep that it’s hard to access sometimes.
It takes me a second to place him.
The face is so familiar, but it’s off somehow. Softer, more wrinkles around the eyes. And the hair’s different: grayer. I remember it being so thick and black, it was like a nightmare cloud. I remember his laughter and his strong arms and hands as he’d lift me up and throw me into the air. I remember the weightless feeling in my stomach as I fell back into his arms. I remember the hair on his shoulders, and the way he’d call me Rella-girl, and the way he’d kiss me on the cheek before bed and say he loved me more than the sky.
That was over fifteen years ago now.
The man standing across the room looks as surprised as I feel, and when he opens his mouth to speak, I nearly scream.
Chapter 10
Mirella
It’s been fifteen years, but my father still looks like he does in my memory, only older.
He turns and looks surprised. Maybe as surprised as I feel. He stands, awkwardly placing a glass down on the Don’s desk, and turns to face me, his hands clasped in front of him like he’s at church. My father’s wearing slacks and a button-down, tucked in without a tie, and he’s heavier than I remember though he’s still solid. He’s big, nearly as tall as the Bruno boys, and there’s a new scar on his cheek I don’t remember. Stubble lines his face and chin, and his eyes are sad, tired and sad, and he steps toward me.
“Hey, kid,” he says, trying to smile. “Hey, Mirella. Been a real long time, huh? Bet you didn’t expect to see your old man here, huh?”
I can’t move, like my muscles won’t answer my brain.
I feel like my feet are stuck in tar. My hands go numb and my throat goes dry and my head’s a total blank. My ears ring, a high-pitched buzz. Fifteen years separate us, fifteen of the hardest years of my life, fifteen years of struggle and anger, fifteen years of rage. Fifteen years, and at any point he could’ve tracked me down, come to the house, said hello, said anything.
Instead, silence. All this time, and silence.
“I know it must be a surprise, seeing me like this.” He comes a little closer. Still awkward, still unsure of himself. I can’t remember ever seeing my father unsure of himself. He’s a giant in my memory, the sort of guy that ate up a room and dominated it with his mere presence. He was always the loudest, the funniest, the first one to arrive and the last one to leave. The life of the party doesn’t do him justice. He was the soul of any group he joined. He was my father and I loved him so much like only a little girl can love her dad. He was my whole world, and when he left, it was like my world left with him.
“Don’t come any closer.” The words snap out of my mouth before I can swallow them. The tension in the room ratchets up instantly. Fynn’s staring, Casso’s staring, and I know Nico and Karah are watching intently. I can’t look away from my father’s face but everyone’s staring, and my heart restarts, racing in my chest as sweat beads under my arms.