Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Tommy’s dead?” Raf asks with alarm. “How do I not know about this?”
I stare at the old Don. “You know why.”
He sighs, sipping some of the water with a shaking head, and leans back against his pillow. “Corrado is my brother.”
“He’s getting more aggressive. I’m here to ask permission to take him down. With him out of the picture, the alliance will be safe.” Fiorella will be safe too, I want to add, but keep my mouth shut.
Don Serrano licks his lips. He chews on something, shaking his head and murmuring. “Tommy was always headstrong. That boy did what he wanted, even when he was a little child. How do we know Corrado was involved?”
I look at Raf for help. This is fucking absurd. “Do you seriously think his own son would straight out attack me without his father’s permission?”
“Perhaps,” Don Serrano mutters. “Perhaps, perhaps. Boys will be boys. Lighting ants on fire.” He coughs, sputtering the water, and Raf has to take it away before he spills it all over. “Where the fuck is my lunch?” he snaps, suddenly angry out of nowhere.
“You ate an hour ago, Dad,” Raf says, gently pushing him back before he can try to pull himself out of bed.
“I can’t get any decent fucking help here,” the dying man growls, trying to shove his son away, but he’s too weak. Eventually, he gives up and slumps backward, breathing hard.
I stare at him, a pit of horror opening in my stomach. Raf is grim and avoiding my gaze. This is worse than I guessed. We knew Don Serrano was dying, but not that he was this mentally unwell. How long have they been keeping this from everyone? How many bad decisions has the Don made in the last few months? I push my chair back and stand.
“We’ll discuss this another time when you’re feeling better,” I say, moving toward the door.
“Leave my brother alone,” Don Serrano snaps at me. “You fucking murdering prick. Leave him alone! He’s got enough problems, you hear me? Leave him the fuck alone!”
I retreat into the hallway, hands clenched into fists. Raf follows me out a moment later, giving me a look. “Like I said—”
I slam my forearm into his chest and crash him back into the wall with a snarl. His eyes go wide in alarm, and he clenches his fist back to smash it into my face but stops cold.
I press the naked edge of a knife against his cheek, snarling like a dog.
“What else have you been lying about?”
His lips pull back into a sneer. “I tried to warn you. This is a bad day.”
“How often does he have a bad fucking day?”
“More often than not lately.” He tilts his head. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
“Take control, you weak fucking shit.”
“You don’t understand. The family’s a mess. Dad’s the only thing keeping it together. Corrado would happily tear it all to pieces if I tried to step into Dad’s position before he dies. They’d call it a fucking coup.” He shakes his head, skin brushing over my knife. It leaves a little red line, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe Raf is tougher than I gave him credit for.
I step back, flicking the knife away and back into my pocket. He wipes the blood from his cheek with his palm.
“What am I supposed to do here? I can’t sit back and let your uncle keep trying to kill me and your sister.”
“Dad doesn’t have long. Once he’s gone, we can make our move. I’ll take over as the Don of the Serrano Famiglia, and we can kill Corrado together.”
“Why not just do it now?”
“Because the other Capos might not like that. I told you, everything’s barely holding together. Corrado is more popular than you realize. Your family’s money is helping, but my uncle’s been sowing the seeds for this mutiny for a while now.”
I stare at him and resist the temptation to draw my knife again. “You’re risking your sister’s life for your own power.”
“It’s for the Famiglia.”
“No, it’s so you can become the Don. You don’t have the backing of the Capos. Instead, you have my family’s support, all thanks to your sister’s sacrifice.”
“She’s doing her duty.” He turns back to his father’s bedroom. “And I’m the rightful heir. Once Dad passes and I officially take his position, Corrado will die, and the Capos will fall into line. Loyalty’s like sand. It washes away in a fucking storm.”
“Soaks up blood too,” I murmur as he walks away, frustrated as hell.
I’m fighting a war with my hands tied behind my back. I know who my enemy is, but I can’t go out and kill him. Instead, these pathetic idiots want to play politics while I’m out here running a war.
How am I supposed to keep my wife safe if I can’t even kill the man trying to kill her?