Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Finally, we make it to his father’s study. The doors are closed and Luca knocks, but he doesn’t wait for a reply. Inside, an older woman sits before the Don’s desk, crying into a handkerchief. A younger, pretty girl sits beside her, holding her hand. The Don nods to Luca, and we step to the side, silent.
“I know it’s small consolation, but the envelopes will continue for the rest of your lives. He would’ve wanted that.” Luca’s father nods to the crying women.
“Thank you, Don Valverde. Thank you. My boy loved you… he loved the Famiglia…” She sobs again into her hands.
“Really, thank you, Don. My brother always said he’d take care of his mother, and this means a lot.”
“He’s taking care of you. Now, please, I want you both to go grieve. We’ll handle the funeral.”
“And you’ll find the men that did this.” Marco’s mother stands up, trembling. “Please, Don Valverde. Find them. Make them pay for my boy’s life.”
“I will.” The Don stands and walks with the two grieving women. Once they’re gone, Luca’s father shuts the door and turns to us with a sigh. “Never gets easier.”
“You handled that well,” Luca comments.
His father returns to the desk and sits heavily in the chair. “Years of practice. It’s not a skill I ever wanted to learn, but it’s a skill I’ve been forced to develop.” He looks from Luca to me and back again. “I thought she’d be in hiding.”
“We need to talk. You heard about my meeting with the Calimeris family?”
“I heard and I approve. Did you hammer out a deal?”
“A good one.”
“Good. Very good.” Don Valverde leans back in his chair. He looks older than the last time I saw him. More tired, thinner. “I understand how this business works. The Famiglia has been my life for a long time, and I know death stalks us all, our people more aggressively than most. We take care of the families after a man gets killed doing his job, but that doesn’t fix the wrongs. It doesn’t solve the resentment, and there’s a lot of resentment. Inside this room and outside. This Greek alliance, it could be a good thing.”
“The Russians don’t want it.” Luca sits and I take the chair beside him. “I think they’re going to use Kacia’s friend out in LA to try to pry us apart.”
“The fucking Russians.” Don Valverde grunts as he sits up straighter. “They’ve been quiet. Weak. I thought Damir Novalov was smart enough to keep to himself.”
“We’re threatening their drug supply. They can’t have that.”
He sighs. “What do you need?”
“Manpower. Guns. I need a crew on a plane right now.”
“Done.” Don Valverde nods sharply. “What else?”
“Speak with the Calimeris. Make sure they understand you want this deal to move forward.”
“I can send a message. I must say, this is unexpected, but well done, Luca.” The Don looks at me and smiles. “Perhaps you’re not as worthless as I thought you were.”
I bristle with rage and I’m about to tell the old fuck to go to hell—when my phone rings.
Both men stare at me as I raise the screen to my face, heart racing. “It’s her,” I say and my voice is a distant croak. Finally, after a dozen or more calls, it’s Adrienne’s name on the screen.
“Answer,” Luca says. “On speaker.”
I do as he instructs. “Hello? Adrienne? Are you okay?”
There’s a short silence. Someone’s breathing on the other end of the line. Then: “You should’ve stayed in Greece, Kacia Florakis. Or are you Kacia Valverde now?”
A man’s voice. He sounds American with the very slightest hint of a harsh Russian accent. Both Luca and his father stiffen at the tone, and I don’t know what they’re hearing, if they know this person or what, but I don’t care. My heart’s racing double-time and I’m on the edge of panic.
“Who is this? Where is Adrienne? If you did something to her—”
“Your friend is fine. I can’t say the same for her Italian bodyguard.”
Luca’s eyes widen. His lips pull back in a grimace and his fingers dig into the arms of his chair. Another one of his men dead in the line of duty. More envelopes, more grieving families. More anger and resentment. More cracks in the already brittle concrete that binds us together.
“What did you do?” I ask quietly, blinking back tears. Both for the dead and for the living. And for Luca.
“He has been handled. It’s a shame, really. We didn’t want to start a war with the Italians. All we wanted was to protect what’s ours, but you couldn’t let it go. You had to go meet with the Calimeris.”
I look up at Luca, not sure what to do. I’m sitting on the edge of my chair with a rod-straight back and I’m trying to make sense of this but I can’t put everything together. He shakes his head slightly, which I think means I shouldn’t mention that he’s in the room.