Cruel Tyrant Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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“I don’t like this any more than either of you do,” I say through my teeth. “You think I like hearing from him again after all this time? But he called me because he thinks he can push me around still, and I won’t let the bastard have that satisfaction. He says he wants to make a deal, and I’m willing to listen, if at least to figure out what game he’s playing.”

Simon groans. “Come on, Davide, that’s insane. You’re not getting anywhere near that piece of shit.”

“He asked to meet with me, not with anyone else,” I point out, and it’s true. Santoro had been very specific. He wants me, not my father, not my brother, but me.

We share a connection, after all.

“You don’t have to do that,” Father says, leaning forward across his desk. “We can send someone else.”

“I’m fine. I can handle it.” Although I’m not sure that’s true. “Make the calls. Set something up. I’ll meet with Santoro and hear him out.”

“This is a mistake,” Simon says, shaking his head. “This is a huge mistake.”

“If it goes wrong, then we’ll kill him, just like he deserves.” I stand and walk over to my brother. He gives me a grim smile when I squeeze his shoulder. “I know you just want what’s best for me, but I need to do this.”

“I’ll make the calls,” Father says, sounding exhausted, and I leave them to their work.

But as I head back to my house, I keep wondering over and over if I’m doing this for the wrong reasons.

Some sick part of me wants to see Uncle Luciano again. Not because I still look at him the way I did when I was a little kid. He was my favorite person in the world back then—always there no matter what, always joking around and playing with us, always willing to play catch when my father was too busy with Famiglia business, quick with a joke and a hug. He meant so much to me when I was a boy.

Which is what made his betrayal so horrifying.

And there’s a part of me now that’s afraid I’m trying to get those feelings back. Like if I can see Santoro again, maybe he’ll be the man he used to be, back before everything went so fucking wrong. Even though I know that’s pathetic and impossible, and I hate myself a little bit for it.

But regardless of my motivations, this is my decision, and I have to face my nightmare with my head held high or else succumb to it.

Chapter 30

Stefania

Giorgia doesn’t stay much longer after the night Davide gets that call. I spend as much time with her as I can before taking her back to the airport and giving her a big hug in front of the security line.

I make her promise to call when she lands and I swear I won’t ghost her anymore.

If her visit had happened even a week or two earlier, I’d be a total homesick mess all over again now that she’s gone. Instead, when Bruno drops me off back home, I’m too busy trying to focus on Davide to think about my own problems.

He hasn’t told me much about the phone call, only that it was a man from his family’s past who did something terrible to them, and he didn’t handle it very well. I keep thinking about the look on his face that night: the pure panic in his eyes, like his brain was shutting down and he didn’t know how to stop it. I sat him down and rubbed his back while he stayed on the phone, sitting utterly rigid, barely controlling his breathing. I couldn’t hear what the man said and Davide mostly just grunted in reply, but when the conversation was over, he hurried away to his father’s house.

He hasn’t been the same since. I can tell this is weighing on him heavily. That night, I cook him dinner and pour him a good glass of wine, and he seems slightly more relaxed as we eat out back on the patio and talk about little things. I tell him more stories about Giorgia and home, and he talks about his childhood.

“The man that called the other night,” I say softly, leaning back in my chair to study his reaction. “That was Uncle Luciano, wasn’t it?”

He nods slowly, his eyes dark and guarded. “He wanted to set up a meeting with me about the guns he stole. Simon was against it. Father was for it. In the end, I decided to go ahead.”

I chew on my lip and tilt my head. “Is that a good idea? I saw the way you reacted, and I just⁠—”

He grunts and stands up. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t have seen that, but I’m fine.”

“Davide—”

“I’m fine,” he says again and walks to the door. I’m surprised by the reaction. He’s normally more willing to talk, except now he’s completely shutting down when it suddenly matters.


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