Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“This isn’t business, Dad. This is war, and you need to accept it. The peace is over. The lull is done. Things are getting hot again, and we can’t pretend like they aren’t.”
He glares at me across the desk. There aren’t many people in this organization that can talk like this to him, but it’s not like he’ll have his heir drowned in the lake.
Although being an heir doesn’t mean much these days.
“Consult me next time,” he says in the tone that means we’re finished.
I push my chair back and stand. “If there’s an opportunity, I’m not going to wait around for you to give me permission. I’m going to seize it.”
“Then we’re going to have a problem.” He leans back and grimaces, his fingers rubbing at his back. “Damn it, Simon. I wish you’d just listen.”
“And I wish you’d listen too.” I turn away. “Mom wants everyone at the house for dinner later. Will you be there?”
“Of course I’ll be there. And we’re not discussing business at the table.”
“Good.” I walk to his office door but pause and look back at him. “How many pills did you take today?”
That only pisses him off. “Go away. I don’t need my son acting like my fucking nurse.”
I slip out into the hall. He won’t answer because we both know it’s too many. The pain isn’t getting any better, but the drugs do less and less every week, which means he needs a consistently higher dose to get the same effect. Except at some point, that higher dose is going to kill him.
It’s already ruining his mind. Alessandro Bianco used to be charming and outgoing, and he could remember anything. Now he’s always pissed off and he constantly loses the thread of a simple conversation.
My sister Elena’s waiting for me by the front door. She’s petite with dark hair, the Bianco family nose, and my mother’s soft good looks. “How’s he doing today?”
“Better than usual, actually.” She falls into step with me as we exit my father’s work house. The block is quiet and shady, right in the heart of Chicago and not far from the lakes. We call this place the oasis, because it’s like heaven in the middle of the city, our own little paradise. One end is blocked off to traffic by fake construction, and the other is tightly controlled by a rotating cast of guards and street toughs. Sniper’s nests on the roofs, watching out for anyone that gets too close, and all the houses here are owned by the family.
“You two didn’t fight too much?” Elena walks with her arms swinging free and her chin up. She’s the damn embodiment of confidence with her hippieish dresses and her free spirit. Dad complains that she takes after her mother’s side too much.
But I know that’s mostly for show. Elena’s got one of the sharpest, most ruthless minds of anyone in the family, and I respect and appreciate her input more than most people.
“He wants to go soft on Santoro yet again.” I shake my head and stare off towards my brother Davide’s house. “I don’t understand it. I really don’t.”
“Nobody knows what actually happened between them,” Elena says, following my gaze. “But you remember how Dad was after the whole Davide thing. He tried to rip the city apart, going after Santoro. But that was a long time ago, and hey, at least Davide’s married now and happy, right?”
I grunt in reply. She’s right, Davide’s got a great wife in Stefania, but I still don’t understand how Dad isn’t more invested in destroying Santoro.
They used to be close. My father and his underboss, Luciano Santoro, were like brothers. Until one night, Santoro betrayed my father, took Davide as a captive, and ripped our lives to pieces in the process.
Santoro was like an uncle to me once. Now, all I want to do is hunt down his network and kill them, one at a time.
“Dad didn’t like the whole ear thing.” I grin at Elena. That was her idea; it was meant to send a message. We can get to you anytime, anywhere.
“No kidding. He’s trying to deescalate while you’re out there tossing gas on the fire.”
“That’s the problem. This whole war’s getting hot whether I start clipping body parts or not.” I pause on the sidewalk under the shade of a tree in between two houses designated as guest structures. They’re for visiting friends, politicians, anyone that needs a place to stay. Entire houses, just sitting empty. I lower my voice. “He’s not going to step down anytime soon, and I don’t know how to convince him.”
My sister runs a hand through her hair and touches her mouth. She’s thinking, eyes squinting against the sun, and looking back at my father’s work house. He’s got an entire building for his day job, and another that he shares with my mother. We all have houses on this block.