Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Dusan’s in for the plan?”
“Dusan’s chomping at the fucking bit.”
“And Valentina—” I start but stop at the guilty expression on his face. He doesn’t say anything for too fucking long. “It was her idea, wasn’t it?”
“She might have made some comments, you know, backchanneled a bit. She didn’t question your loyalty,” he says quickly, “but just your commitment.”
Fuck. God fucking fuck. I should’ve seen this coming. Valentina got mad and decided I can’t be trusted anymore, and now she’s steering everyone in her direction. Because to Valentina, revenge against the Biancos for taking away her father and her life is everything, and she knows I don’t feel that way anymore.
I don’t. I really don’t. It’s bizarre, but I don’t. Ever since Luciano was killed, I’ve been consumed by thoughts of hurting the Biancos for taking him away, and now those feelings are like a dull pulse. Killing Biancos won’t bring him back. Hurting their Famiglia won’t save what we lost. Revenge isn’t anything but more suffering.
Moving forward is the only option. Laura’s my future.
I push back from the table and get to my feet. “When and where?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Come on. Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“Just tell me.”
“There’s some new art gallery. Adam wants to hit the opening night. He thinks there will be some high-level Biancos in attendance.”
My skin crawls. I can see Laura in her mask looking beautiful and light and happy. I can see her body shredded to pieces by gunfire. The screams, the blood splattered across her sculptures. “That’s a bad plan,” I say and turn away.
“I don’t know. Seems smart. Hey, wait a second, don’t walk off. Can I have your slice? Marco, come on!”
I ignore him and leave the pizza place.
Valentina’s not hard to find. She’s at her apartment, a ratty little two-bedroom that I pay for. That I used to pay for. She keeps it nice, even though the building isn’t the best, and she stares at me for a long few seconds as I stand in front of her in the hall.
“You should come in, I guess,” she says.
But I shake my head. “I was just talking with Ronan.”
She doesn’t seem ashamed of herself. Good, that’s good, at least she’s got a spine. “I’m not going to apologize.”
“Never dreamed you would. I’m just here to ask for a courtesy.”
She laughs, sharp and ugly. “You’re going to beg for your girlfriend’s life?”
“No, Valentina. I’m going to warn you. That gallery opening is a bad idea.”
Silence between us. I don’t know how we got to this place, but she’s looking at me like I’m slime, and I barely recognize her now. There’s an ugly sneer in her eyes.
“You’re not going to warn them,” she says, crossing her arms. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Just don’t do this.”
“It’s not in my hands, you know that. All I did was make sure you couldn’t talk anyone out of it.” She shakes her head and starts to close the door. “You made your choice already, Marco. Now you have to live with it.”
And I’m left in the hallway, seething with anger.
Chapter 35
Laura
The oasis shouldn’t exist.
It’s absurd, really. In a city like Chicago, dense as hell and always growing, a single family shouldn’t control an entire city block. Much less be able to close off one end and treat it like a private kingdom.
And yet the Biancos have been living in these houses for a long time now. Some of the buildings are family structures: every sibling has their own home. But some of them are guest houses, and others are for more specialized purposes.
I find Simon grunting away in front of a mirror. He’s sweaty and focused as he lifts weights. His guards give me a wary look but don’t stop me as I walk into the gym, which occupies the entire first floor and basement of one of the houses. Simon glances at me in the mirror. The dick has the nerve to finish his sets before turning to face me, breathing hard.
This wasn’t an easy decision to reach. After my conversation with my mother, I had to really think about how to approach this. I’ll admit, I’m a flawed person, and my first instinct was to go on a pyromaniac rampage and burn the entire fucking block to the ground. Destroy it all and move on.
Then I took some time to cool off and thought more about it, and the outlines of a plan began to take shape.
“If you’re here to kill me, at least let me put on a clean shirt first.” Simon’s attempt at humor falls flat.
“I know about the gallery.”
His little smile fades away. “I figured you’d hear about it sooner or later.”
“How many pieces did you plan on stealing from me?”
“It’s not stealing.” He stands and uses a towel to wipe down the machine. “You’re a member of this Famiglia, and your sculptures are worth some serious money. Angelo was going to make sure you got a more than fair cut of the proceeds.”