Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“It’s a double standard I fully endorse.”
“What happened to becoming a new kind of Don? I thought you were going to be progressive.”
“Progressive to a point. And that point is letting my sister get anywhere near an orgy.”
“Probably for the best.” She hops up and walks over to the bar cart, where she pours herself some whiskey. I notice she selects the good stuff. Leave it to my sister to have a taste for the finest. She’s wearing all designer clothes, likely purchased during her little week-long jaunt to Rome, and her sleek black hair looks freshly cut. “I hear you record everything.”
“I’d never admit to that.” I wave for her to pour me a drink. “Did you visit with Papa yet?”
She brings over a glass. I take a sip as she sits in one of my guest chairs. Her expression hardens, and she looks away. “I sat with him earlier.”
“And? How was he?”
“Not good. You should’ve told me.”
“Would it have made a difference? Why ruin your trip?”
“Adriano, I can go to Rome any time.” She raises her glass, looking grim. “Here’s to Papa.”
“Here’s to him.” We toast and drink. “You know, it’s rare for people in our position to have fond memories of their father, right?”
“He was an exceptional man. Never once raised his voice at us. Never had to get physically violent. And still managed to churn out two incredible kids.”
I cover my face with my glass. “Well, one incredible kid. And one shopaholic.”
“Don’t be a prick, Adriano. I’m being serious.”
“I know, and you’re right. Papa did a good job with us. Sometimes I wonder—” I stop myself from saying it. I wonder if I can be half the Don he was. But that’s not really my problem.
“If you’re about to say you aren’t sure if you’ll run the family as well as he did, we both know the answer to that already.” She taps one manicured nail on my desk. “Revenue is up across the board. All our businesses are thriving. Our members are getting fat, rich, and happy. You’ve deftly maneuvered us into a position of power, thanks to our alliances. Papa would be proud.”
I nod to myself. She’s right, and that isn’t really my problem.
No, what I worry about is how soon I’ll end up just like my father.
I decide to change the subject. I’m not interested in opening up to anyone about how I feel. Not even to my sister.
“Now that you’re home, I need you to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Plan my wedding.”
Her eyebrows lift. “Are you serious?”
“We could hire someone, but I have a feeling you’d enjoy the challenge.”
“I’m shocked and honored you’d give me this highly sensitive task.”
“Don’t joke around. Will you do it?”
“Consider it my wedding gift to you.” She takes another drink, smirking at me. “But I’m putting you in a white tux.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s almost like you don’t know me.” She gets up, grinning to herself. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
“I already regret asking.”
“Don’t worry. Your future wife will love it.” She glances back. “But you might not.”
I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. Bianca loves fucking with me, but she’ll do a wonderful job organizing this event. “Keep it small. That’s all I ask. Only important people.”
“You’re marrying a Willing-Morris girl. Important people means half the city elite.”
“Don’t go overboard.”
“Isn’t that the point of marrying her? Getting access to her social connections? You might as well make the best of it.”
She’s got a point there. “Fine, but do your best to keep the guest list tight. And don’t bankrupt us.”
“I couldn’t even if I tried, and believe me, I am.” She strides to the door. “I’m thinking four hundred people max.”
“Half that!”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Have you met her yet, by the way? I did a little digging when the match was announced. She’s very, very pretty, but she’s young.”
“Twenty-three,” I murmur, glancing down at my desk. “And no, we haven’t met officially.”
Which isn’t entirely a lie. The beautiful masked woman I fucked in my office a few days ago was pretending to be someone else. Which made our little run-in very off the books.
Still, I trust Bianca more than anyone else in the world, but I’m not telling her about that.
“Shouldn’t you at least have a conversation with her before walking down the aisle?” she asks, sounding almost impatient.
“What’s the point?”
“The point is you’re going to be her husband. At least try to have some emotional depth.”
“We both know that’s not my specialty.”
“I said try.” She looks skyward. “Heaven help me. I swear, you better be a good husband to that girl.”
“What do you care?”
“Guess I’m a caring person at heart. Introduce yourself to the girl before the wedding, Adriano.”
I tighten my jaw. I’m about to tell her off, but I stop myself.