The underground moves fast. Men smell weakness and they move in like hounds. The Corsetti Mafia’s always been one of the more solid operations in Philadelphia, but my father’s been sick for a while. I did my best to keep business running smoothly during his long decline, but there was only so much I could handle.
It wasn’t easy, watching him die. Although sometimes it was. On nights when I thought about what it felt like for his belt to teach me all those ugly lessons from my childhood. All the welts and scars I still carry. Those memories made it better.
But he was a big man back then. Like Matteo, he was loud, loved his food and wine and women, and he wasn’t afraid to overindulge. Tommaso Corsetti was a force and a nightmare.
Matteo’s right about one thing: I am not my father. Maybe I really do have too much of my mother in me, and the council is right to worry.
That doesn’t bother me all that much.
The family’s stuck in the old ways. We’ve done well, but that won’t last forever, not without changes. When I finally take control, I’m going to drag my backwards organization into the future, kicking and fucking screaming bloody murder all the way.
Except first, I have to fix the biggest mistake my father ever made. The single secret he shoved into my lap with his final, dying breaths.
I lean my head against the window of my car. The glass is cool. The breakfast rush is just starting to hit the diner. I’m wired from staying up all night, but I can feel the crash coming. I should’ve gone home hours ago. Dinner’s a long-forgotten memory at this point, and my body needs a rest.
But I had to come see her.
She appears suddenly, a few minutes past six. Her shift is finally over. She melts out onto the sidewalk, moving fast, her coat wrapped tight around her.
Funny how this normal, beautiful girl might be the answer to all my problems.
She doesn’t look anything like her father.
Which is a good thing.
Or maybe it’s just complicated. I might not be so attracted to her if she resembled the man who taught me everything I know.
I put the car in drive and pull up alongside her. I roll slow, waiting until she notices me. Kira walks with her head down, face locked in concentration. She’s like a bull charging forward and doesn’t see me until she’s halfway home. Then she jerks backward in alarm.
I double park and roll down the window. “How’s the coffee this morning?”
“Bad. Like always.” She stares at me and shakes her head. “What are you doing here, Stellan?”
“Wanted to see how your shift was.”
“Fun. Loved it. Did you want to threaten me some more? Maybe a little extra blackmail?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
She wrinkles her nose. I think she wants to laugh, but she shakes her head instead.
God, she’s fucking beautiful.
Thick, dark hair. Full pink lips. Even with bags under her eyes, she looks like an angel. Great bones. Fantastic figure. If she weren’t busy grinding herself into a powder, those cheekbones could get her in the movies.
A good, Italian face. The exact kind of face I need.
Helps that the face is only a front for a strong woman. If she were soft, privileged, if she were aware of just exactly how attractive she is, I wouldn’t be anywhere near her.
I would’ve taken a look, like I planned back then, and never bothered to come back.
Instead, I couldn’t keep away.
This was never my plan, but fuck, nothing’s been going my way these days.
I get out of the car. She doesn’t run off, which is a good sign. Her defiant stare makes my heart flutter with excitement. I can’t remember the last time a woman made me feel this way. Like it’s a challenge. Like Iwantto be near her.
She fucking hates me.
