He laughs. "Nah, she only has eyes for you."
"What do you mean?"
"I hate saying that Mina was right, but Violet's entire focus is on you."
"I'm her patient," I point out.
"Nah, I'm pretty sure she doesn't spend half of her free time in the hospital with her other patients."
"Half of her free time, eh?" I like the idea of that.
"Trust me," Luciano goes back to typing. He chuckles, absolutely clueless about how much I want to put a bullet through him right now.
The helicopter lands on the skyscraper I own at the same time as another one lands on the one next to mine: DeLuna's.
"One of these days, I'll get me one of those," I say, staring at Toni's sleek helicopter. He's in charge of the money laundering of our organization. Designing and selling ten-million-dollar-a-piece choppers was a stroke of genius. It's the perfect disguise to have the Russians pay for our weapons. As long as we all pay our taxes on the transactions, the IRS is not going to check the Russians' inventory to make sure they actually are now in possession oftheirhelicopters. Neither does anybody wonder why they need twenty a year. My father's not a fan of paying taxes, and that's one of the reasons why he's on trial right now. I'd rather pay up and havecleanmoney than worry about going to jail for something stupid like tax evasion or loan sharking.
The other roof is too far away to see who is getting into the helicopter, but I'm willing to bet it's Toni. It makes me wonder what he did with the information I gave him just before I got shot. Good old dad must not have figured out it's missing yet, otherwise he'd probably put a bullet in my head himself. I'd love to see the look on his face when he does.
Toni is working on getting my father's ass in jail, so he can exact his revenge. I neither know nor care to find out how he intends to pull it off since Edoardo has explicitly forbidden him to touch my father, but I have faith in the man. Toni is a few years older than I am. Other than seeing each other during family events, I haven't had much contact with him until recently. Turns out, we share the same goals. Putting my father in jail is one of them; the other is getting rid of our current joke of a Don and bringing our family back to what it used to be, before Edoardo took over and started playing us against each other.
Luciano told me that Toni visited me twice while I was out, so I suppose I owe him a visit soon as well. I'm not the visiting type, but even I realize that certain etiquette is expected. And since I'm going to be the capo of the Orsi family soon, I might as well start now.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind riding in that," Luciano joins my musings. "That thing is like flying in a fucking plane."
It is. Not that my helicopter is anything to turn your nose up at, but compared to the ones Toni is producing, it's the difference between first class and economy.
And I know the difference. When my father sent me to Sicily at eighteen, I didn't have a dime to my name. He bought me a one-way ticket on a commercial liner, economy, and that was that.
The money I made there was due to my own wits and men like Luciano, who joined my small gang without hesitation or questions.
Ten years in, after making a name for myself in Sicily, I was recalled. That was a year ago. Had it not been for the weight of family honor carved into my bones, I would've stayed in Sicily and let my father's empire rot after my brother's death. Watching it fall apart would've been the right kind of justice—for both of them. Be that as it may, our family made certain promises to the men and women who work for us, and those promises are binding. So, I'm here. Ready to bring the Orsi family back to what it was supposed to be and carry it into the twenty-first century.
"Maybe Toni'll give you one too—if you play nice," Luciano says, jabbing me in the ribs.
I grunt and swat his arm. "Asshole."
He grins, unbothered. "Forgot to mention—Enrico got hitched a few days ago. Toni gave him a chopper as a wedding gift."
I blink. "Just like that?"
I know Enrico and Toni go way back, but a fucking helicopter? Nobody hands those out without a reason.
Luciano sees the look on my face and smirks. "Yeah… let's just say you missed one hell of a wedding." He pauses. "And an even bigger explosion. Literally."
Before I can press him for details, the sliding-glass doors open, and Zia Rosa, my housekeeper, comes running out. She's another person who uprooted her life to come with me—twice, actually. She was my mother's housekeeper and best friend. When she heard what my father did, she followed me to Sicily, investing what little money she had in my racketeering business. I've paid her back since, with interest, and bought her a little house out in the country, but she refuses toretire.
Maybe one day, when you have a wife to take care of you, eh, she keeps telling me.
Then I'll never marry, I'll miss your ravioli too much,I tease back whenever our conversation lands on one of these topics.
Only once did she threaten to leave me—the day Mina announced our engagement. She only agreed to stay when I told her that I would always choose her over Mina. She'd long given up hope that I would settle down, so she grudgingly agreed to put up with Mina just tofinally see me married.
Grinning, I limp over to her. She smacks me with her palm. "Damn you, Marcello Orsi."
Amused, Luciano takes a step back. Kurt and Giacomo look uncertainly at each other.
"What did I do?" I ask, rubbing my burning face. It's been a long time since someone backhanded me. And they usually don't live to tell the tale.
