Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Then he’s gone. The door shuts behind him. I feel twisted and pulled thin, yanked between two extremes, from the joy of sharing my bed with him, to this utter disaster.
Except I’m determined, and I know this is the right call. Even if it hurts.
Chapter 25
Angelo
Cage’s music pounds against my skull. I’ve had a headache ever since Vito smashed my brains with that fucking piece of scrap wood. Lucky me, if it had been an actual baseball bat or a metal pipe, I’d probably be dead right now. At least I’m in clean clothes and Laura stitched up the arm again. I sit at the far end of the bar and drink a beer while Claudia dances in her sexy little costume looking like she’s going to cut off someone’s head.
I’m thinking that someone is me.
She shouldn’t be here, but the girl’s too stubborn. I should’ve known this would blow back on her eventually and done something to ease her fears sooner, but here we are. I won’t hang her sister out to dry—this vendetta against Tommy is going to come to a head sooner or later, and when it does, I’ll make sure Serena’s protected from the fallout.
But I get it, Claudia doesn’t know that, and even if I told her, she doesn’t completely believe me.
Maybe it would’ve been better if I hadn’t gone to her apartment last night.
Except I can’t bring myself to regret that.
I feel too good with her. It’s right, when we’re together, and I didn’t want to leave this morning. Which is a fucking first for me.
I have to find a way to make her trust me again.
In the meantime, I’ll keep a close eye on her.
The bartender nods at someone over my shoulder and a familiar voice orders a whiskey on the rocks. Tommy sits down at my elbow and thanks the bartender with a grunt. I glance at him, wondering if this is some setup, but there’s nobody lurking in the crowd behind me. Just Tommy himself, wearing a good suit and looking a little tired, like he didn’t get good sleep the night before.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were after my job,” Tommy says with a knowing grin.
“We both know you’re just keeping the seat warm for me.”
“Ah, come on, Angelo, don’t be like that. I’ve done a damn good job with your club here. Aren’t you happy it’s earning?”
I’d be happier if it were earning for me, but I only shrug. “You’re doing good for yourself. No doubt about it.”
“Good for the Famiglia too.” Tommy swirls his drink and stares at it. “We used to run around ripping this town to pieces. You remember those days?”
“It was only five years ago.”
And I’ve been in prison with nothing else but to remember.
“Good days,” Tommy says and it seems like he’s in a contemplative mood. “You were a good boss. Treated us well. Took us along as you rose through the ranks. Always had more money to throw our way. There was nothing but respect between us.”
I sip my drink. “What happened then?”
“You went to prison. The boys wandered apart. Shit changed.” He glances at me, and for all I can tell, this really is some trip down memory lane.
“I’m aware that the world didn’t wait for me while I was away.”
“I want to extend you an olive branch. I know you haven’t been happy with the way things are, and I’m thinking we can fix that.” He turns toward me, and I can almost smell the trap radiating from him.
He knows what I’m up to. Roc went running to him the second I failed to finish that traitor the fuck off, and Tommy knows what I’m doing. He also knows that I know that he knows, and I know he knows, and we’re both sitting here fucking knowing everything and grinning at each other like things are totally fine.
He should be on the run. I’m Angelo Bianco—my goddamn brother is the Don. If Tommy were smart, he’d already be halfway to Mexico right now with a suitcase full of cash and a plan to start over.
Instead, he’s sitting at the bar with me, talking about an olive branch.
Which means either he’s stupid, or he’s overconfident.
Or there’s something I’m missing.
“I’d be happy to take over my club,” I say and glance in Claudia’s direction, just to make sure she’s safe.
Tommy notices and laughs. “I was thinking more that I’d cut you in on certain business practices I’ve been busy with. I know you’re aware of the third floor, and I’m sure you’ve already guessed what we’re really doing with those special rooms.”
“Blackmail. Pretty straightforward.”
“It’s lucrative,” he admits. “Your brother knows a little bit about it, and he’s even used some of our materials during his tenure. You know, to nudge certain stubborn political enemies toward doing the right thing.”