“But you’re fine now?”
“Eh, I wouldn’t say that. While they were poking around, they saw a few things. They don’t have a proper diagnosis for me yet, but I had my images sent to doctors well above their pay grade, and…let’s just say I’m going to be partying it up for the next two months.”
“Partying it up?”
“Hookers, booze, maybe take up skydiving.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“Well, would you rather go out with a bang or a whimper?”
The weight of his words hits me with such force, I’m sent reeling.
“Sit down, boy.” He gestures to a chair by his bedside.
I obey, knowing better than to go against the Rossi patriarch.
“I have one year at best.”
I blink at him, hoping this is all just a nightmare. How could this happen to Aldo Rossi—or, as he’s formally known, The Butcher of the Bay?
No, he did not get that name from killing anyone, though I do know where a few bodies are buried.
He was only sixteen when he made his first deal, taking out a loan to buy one-fourth a share of a restaurant. By the time he was eighteen, he owned seven, free and clear.
Restaurants turned into real estate, and everything he touched turned to gold. He grew an empire, ruthlessly driving away the competition by any means necessary.
Those are the bodies I speak of.
Now, forty years later, his empire is so grand, he’s been invited to more than one royal wedding.
As he’s said time and time again, he’s not a force, he’stheforce.
Granddad reaches over and gently places his hand on my shoulder. “I need you to keep the Rossi name alive.”
“I promise to continue to bring infamy to the dastardly Rossi name,” I say, hoping to bring a smile to his face.
“No, you idiot. You need heirs. A wife and a few snot-nosed brats will do you some good.”
I chuckle. “They’ll come in time.”
“Well, you better hurry the hell up or else you’ll be written out of my will.”
I blink at him as the weight of his words tumble around in my head.
“Surely you can’t?—”
“Surely I can do anything I damn well please with the money I earned through a lifetime of hard fucking work. I didn’t raise your father right, and he left this world far too soon. His sister Isabella had the right idea, but gave the family three daughters that have no interest in my work.”
“I literally run several divisions of your company. The most lucrative, in fact.”
“Yes, but you’re thirty-two and still bring home a different broad each night.”
The fact that he uses the word broad speaks to his age.
“So, you’re going to leave me nothing?”
“Nope. I’m going to leave you one dollar.”
