We hang up, and I stand, momentarily forgetting about the woman still on her knees. “I have to go, but it’s been … fun.” I tuck my already-softening cock into my pants, thanks to the news Lorenzo just hit me with.
Charmaine glances up at me in confusion.
“What?” she says, clambering to her feet. “That’s it? But I didn’t even get you off.” She follows me toward her front door. “And what about me?”
Thankfully, I came to her place rather than booking a room at one of our hotels, so I can leave without argument. I don’t know this woman, I don’t want to know her, and I sure as fuck don’t have to explain myself to her.
Without answering any of her questions, I head straight for my car and jump in, my only concern Lorenzo. Unlike the nonexistent relationship I had with Andrey, Lorenzo gets along with his father. When Andrey was killed four years ago by Joseph due to a falling-out between them, my only regret was that I hadn’t gotten the chance to put the bullet in his heart myself.
On my way to the Russos’ residence, I call my brother to let him know what happened. Unlike me, who is a night owl, I wake him from his beauty sleep. But the second I tell him what happened, he’s awake and on his way.
Since I was in downtown Miami and he was home, only a few blocks away from where the Russos live, we arrive at the same time to find firefighters all over the area, putting out the fire. It’s mostly smoke at this point, but the home is beyond fucked.
“Are you sure your parents were in there?” I ask Lorenzo when I find him sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, staring at the house with glassy eyes.
I never liked the home I lived in. Forced meals with an abusive asshole while watching him treat my family like shit. Holidays that always ended in him slapping or degrading someone. Martha, our housekeeper, tried to make up for it by baking delicious shit, andMom would sneak us gifts despite Andrey saying spoiling us would make us soft and weak.
But Lorenzo’s home was different. Tanya, Lorenzo’s mom, was sweet and welcomed me into her home, knowing I hated my own. His father might’ve been business partners with Andrey and as close to having a friend as Andrey would get, but Giuseppe wasn’t an abusive asshole like him. He was tough on Lorenzo but fair, wanting a relationship with his son. He was grooming Lorenzo to take over the company one day. Whereas Andrey used violence and fear to force my brother to conform to his expectations.
“Unless they left their phones at home and took off, yeah,” he mutters. “When the neighbor called to let me know, I checked their locations. The fire was too quick and spread too fast. They must’ve been asleep.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I tell him, having a seat next to him.
“I think it was foul play,” Lorenzo says, his eyes not leaving the house. “Neighbor said they saw someone moving through the backyard on their security cameras.”
“Think it was Anthony?”
Giuseppe went after Anthony’s dad, Joseph, and took him out. He did it partly out of vengeance for Joseph shooting and killing Andrey, but also because he’d had it out for Joseph for years since he had gotten engaged to Maria. Giuseppe had been in love with Maria and found out she had not only cheated on him with Joseph, but was also pregnant with his baby. Since she was supposed to be a virgin, everyone knew the baby was Joseph’s, and she was forced by her father to marry him.
There was no love lost between Joseph and Anthony, but rather than leaving his entire empire—Rothschild International—to his only son, he specified in his will that it would be sold to a third-party company, proving even Joseph knew what a waste Anthony was.
We parted ways with the Rothschilds—keeping our partnership with the Russos, but ending thearranged marriagebullshit—and Anthony was left with nothing.
“It would make sense,” Lorenzo says. “My dad killed his, but why the fuck did he wait so long?” He glances at me. “We have a lot of enemies, but if I find out it was Anthony, I’m going to kill him myself.”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “You already know I won’t let you get those pretty hands dirty.” I chuckle darkly. “If it was Anthony, I’ll kill him for you.”
2
Daniella
My parents are dead.
It doesn’t feel real.
I spoke to my mom on the phone a few hours prior, making plans for winter break. She was supposed to come visit me in Coral Bay. We were going to do a spa and shopping day. Dad was in the background, reminding me that I’d agreed to come home for Christmas since we had gone skiing last year and he was too busy with work to go away again this year.
And now, they’re gone.
As the pastor wraps up his speech, Lorenzo holds my hand. The first row is for family only, and sadly, we’re the only family that’s left, aside from my mother’s sister—who hadn’t spoken to my mom in years, not agreeing with the life she lived. In her defense, my mother hadn’t asked to be the eldest daughter of Lorenzo Accardi—my brother’s namesake—a well-known Italian Mafia don, who chose to partner with my paternal grandfather in an arranged marriage between my mother and father.
Because of my father not wanting me to grow up around violence, I spent most of my life at boarding school, and then once I graduated from high school, I went to college in Coral Bay. It’s about five hours northwest of Harbor Point—close enough to see my family, but far enough away to keep my father happy.
“You good?” Lorenzo asks, snapping me back into the present.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t realize the funeral had ended. We’ve ordered headstones to be placed in the cemetery in memory of them, but it’s just for symbolism since there aren’t any bodies to bury, thanks to the fire burning them to ash.
“Yeah,” I breathe out, feeling anything but good.
