But every so often—once in a blue moon type of often—he comes out for a night at the Orchid Lounge.
It’s been days now that I’ve tried reaching out to my father. I’ve been demanding a sit down to discuss what I’ve not-so-subtly begun calling family matters.
Topics like why the fuck would Carmelo ever betray me and where the fuck has he been as I’ve battled Nero and his men alone?
My father doesn’t realize it’s telling that he’s been avoiding me this long. The Ziccardis have double-crossed each otherbefore, but I’d expect more out of a father. The same man who’s had me acting as his representation when conducting affairs.
None of it makes any fucking sense.
Either my father aligned with Carmelo and his betrayal or he’s a coward standing back while his son fights his battles.
I’m not sure which one is worse. Somehow, the second option seems more insulting. I’d almost respect my father’s betrayal if he was finally waking up out of his stupor and being ruthless and cutthroat again. At least that would show some strength in a brutal world like the Cosa Nostra.
It doesn’t help that I’m already angry. I’m still furious with Nevaeh for all that’s happened and need another outlet for that anger. Confronting my father and his men seems like the perfect alternative.
I get out of the car and head inside.
The Orchid Lounge is an X-rated club that’s draped in velvet and lit by lavender neon lights. Orchids bloom in darkness from every corner. Their scent perfumes the air, something sweet mixed with something smoky. The club opens up to a maze of a stage and ample seating around the room. Chrome stripper poles are everywhere to be found, stretching from the floor to the high-vaulted ceiling. Girls swing off them in the most complicated tricks.
There’s no shortage of audience. They’re seated at sleek onyx tables and sipping on alcoholic drinks that glow in the dark club. Business deals are being cut and white-collar crime plotted. All standard for a gentleman’s club run by the mafia.
I head toward the private rooms where my father’s office is located.
I ignore the bouncers and shoulder my way to the back. I’m broader and stronger than both of them. Even as brawny as they are, they’re no match for me.
No one really is.
I bust the door to Pa’s office open with a hard ram from my shoulder. The door bounces open and reveals the vacant inside. The room’s still and empty… except for the back door swinging open and shut in the wind.
Somebody’s just made a very hasty exit.
My teeth clench together for a nasty grin. “So, Pa, we’re playing hide-and-go-seek now? Just wait ’til I find you.”
I dart through the back door he just rushed through seconds before. I’m in the nick of time to witness Pa’s car bustling down the street, tires screeching. He’s run away rather than face me like the fucking coward he is.
“Codardo,” I rumble under my breath.
I never see them coming, the men who ambush me from behind. All I know is I’m struck hard over the head by an object as hard as steel. I drop to the wet and grimy alleyway asphalt and immediately attempt to push myself up.
Whatever’s happened, whoever’s struck me, is a threat, and laying on the ground with your back to the danger is a grave mistake.
But I never get a chance to get up. The men bring a hail of kicks and punches down on me. Blows reach every part of my hulking body, robbing my lungs of air and making my heart lurch in my chest. I sputter and snarl at them, trying again to rise up onto my knees.
I’m knocked down again. This time by one of the aluminum trashcans in the alley. Garbage tumbles out as the rest of me vibrates from the force of the hit.
I’m kicked in the face. Punched in the chest. Beat over the head.
By the time the group of men—numbers ranging from ten to twelve—are done with me, I’m half conscious and leaking blood. My left eye swells shut, and I listen to the pounding footsteps of their retreating forms.
Codardos.
It looks like my father wasn’t the only coward of the night.
TEN
Nevaeh
“Where is he?”I whisper, my face practically touching the cold glass of the window. My reflection is like a dark mirror, showing a fidgety woman draped in a long nightgown. Her eyes are rounded with sadness, almost misty, as they search the grounds for any sign of him.
