Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“Lucky,” Lucian said, clearly reading out loud the inscription on the barrel of the gun.
“I thought it was appropriate,” Dante said, “even if you never went by that nickname with us.”
Lucian cleared his throat, but said nothing.
Lucky was the nickname his bio-father had called him.
“How many of these were made?” Lucian asked.
“Two.”
Lucian’s brow shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah, man. One for you, and one for the man who designed it.”
“Damn.”
Both Antony and Gio smiled. Lucian was still toying with, and looking over, the gun in his hands. He probably wouldn’t let the thing go for hours.
Dante knew then that he had his older brother caught. Everything between them would be just fine after today.
“When did you have this done?” Lucian asked.
“A while back.”
Shortly after their feud started.
He really did hate fighting with his brothers.
Lucian grinned, and his gaze lifted to meet Dante’s once again. “You’re forgiven.”
Dante smirked. “Kind of figured.”
“But you’re still an asshole.”
“That’s not new,” Gio put in.
Antony shot his youngest son a look that quieted him from saying more.
“Well—”
Dante’s ringing phone stopped Lucian from saying more. He held up a finger to ask for a second before answering the call.
“Yeah, Dante here.”
“They’re going to Vegas, Dante!”
His wife’s screech damn near burst his eardrums. He almost touched his ear after pulling the phone away just to see if it was bleeding or something. The volume of her words actually made the speakers crackle.
All the men at the table shot him a look—wary and concerned. They had likely heard Catrina loud and clear if the looks on their faces were any indication.
“Jesus Christ, Cat,” Dante said as he put the phone back to his ear. “What in the hell is wrong with you yelling at me like that?”
“You ... you ...” His wife spluttered before finally settling on saying, “You call her, Dante, or him! I don’t care. You call one of them and make sure they’re not going to Vegas to do what I think they’re going to do! Right now, Dante!”
The loudness of her tone didn’t decrease a bit. If anything, she could louder.
“Cat—”
“I will absolutely die, Dante,” she hissed. “Do you understand that? I will die if she does this to me. I have already had one child elope. I cannot handle another one of my children breaking my heart that way. Call them now!”
Dante blinked. “Are you talking about Catherine and—”
“Yes!”
“Cat, I am sure they’re not going to elope.”
He actually wasn’t sure, but he figured calming down his wife was more important at the moment. Catrina sounded like she was two seconds away from breaking down entirely. Well, if she hadn’t already fallen down that fucking rabbit hole.
It kind of sounded like she had.
“You don’t know that!”
“Catrina, now—”
“Mark my words, Dante, if they elope because you didn’t stop them, I will never, ever forgive you!”
“Okay, now you’re starting to sound a little psychotic, donna.”
“I will never forgive you,” she repeated, now deathly calm. “You better make sure that’s not what they’re doing.”
Catrina hung up the call.
Silence passed around the men at the table for a second ... or three.
Finally, Lucian spoke first.
“Well, that was interesting.”
Gio cleared his throat, and stood from his seat. “I think I’m going to go home to my non-violent, happily pleasant wife, and thank her for never yelling at me loud enough that my nuts ascend back into my body.”
Dante looked at his father. “Can I come stay with you and Ma for a couple of days?”
Because given the fit his wife seemed to be in over something as simple as a Vegas trip, it kind of sounded like he might need a different place to sleep. Catrina—despite how she tried to say otherwise—would not be calmed by Dante making a phone call to their daughter or her boyfriend.
Antony chuckled. “Nope.”
Damn.
That was that.
The First Meet
Almost five-year-old Catherine tried again to run up the slide. The same way her older brother and cousin had done it just a minute before. She didn’t know if it was because she was too small, or there was too much snow, but she couldn’t make it. All over again, she fell down the slide and into the snow at the bottom.
Catherine huffed. Her breath colored the cold air white. “This is stupid.”
“Is not just ‘cause you can’t do it,” Andino said.
“You can just use the ladder, Catherine,” her brother, Michel, said.
“I don’t want to use the ladder. I want to go up the slide!”
Michel rolled his eyes. Andino just ignored Catherine altogether. She was far smaller than both of them, and this wasn’t fun at all.
Catherine sat down on her backside. The cold snow covered the ground, and seeped through her thick, pink snow pants. The only good thing about this stupid day was that Christmas was almost here.
She loved Christmas.
“Are you gonna come up and play, or what?” Michel asked.