They had my loyalty and needed me.
Followed by business.
Even if the last thing I wanted to do was deal with the Albanians tonight.
Then, tomorrow,her.
She deserved to have my full attention.
I shoved my papers onto a corner of my desk, turned off my computer, waved farewell to my lab techs, and left the laboratory with a renewed sense of purpose.
We’d repoed this mansion from theFamigliapigs who’d ruled the city before the Valentinis had taken their throne back and as gaudy as it was, I appreciated it.
The Roman statues, some in gold, a few in painted marble, like how they would have been in ancient times, lined the hallways. Everything was gilded, red-velvet curtains draped from the odd nook or overly grandiose bay windows, the lingering stench of cigarette smoke from men long since slaughtered…
Paintings, expensive and crazy expensive, graced most of the walls, meaning that wealth oozed out of every square foot. Hell, even the shitters were gold-plated.
Call it the Sicilian in me, and golden thrones aside, I appreciated the presence of the past. Give me that over the sterile modernity of Conor or Aidan O’Donnellys’ pristine homes.
Grimacing at the distasteful notion, I marched into the suite of rooms I’d claimed as my own and transmogrified from the mad scientist who still hadn’t showered and into a Capo worthy of theFamigghia… who still hadn’t showered.
Once I’d dressed, I doused myself in aftershave, smirking at the silent ‘fuck you’ to the sisters weird as I packed an overnight bag, just in case I decided to do something crazier than usual—like head to Key West in time for daybreak—before making my way out of the house.
I jumped into a vintage Lamborghini that Luc had bought me for my birthday in the hopes that it would encourage me to leave my lab.
Setting off for the club, I pointed the Lambo’s nose in the direction of the docks, where our flagship club was based.
I kept the soft top down, enjoying the rush of wind in my face and the blasting of the music to the four corners of FDR Drive. It didn’t dust off the cobwebs, but it, alongside the cool spring night, went some way to waking me up.
It was impossible to get anywhere in Manhattan quickly whenyou were traveling by road, even if the hour was approaching midnight, but I made relatively good time.
Avoiding the red carpet at the front of the club, I pulled in at the back and threw my keys at one of the guards—a guy I trusted, Marcu Caruso.
“Park it somewhere it won’t get scraped up,” I ordered before I headed inside, where Luigi Ventimiglia hovered by the doorway, waiting for me.
He might not have belonged to one of the five families, but he was up-and-coming, proving himself to be trustworthy as well as loyal to Chad, which I knew meant a lot to my sister.
Rory’s homeless projects had cultivated both men.
By feeding, sheltering, and clothing the homeless on our streets, people that everyone else treated like trash, she’d weaponized them.
Some left to better their lives once they’d been given a chance, others stuck close and provided her with intel, and a few more, like these two, gained positions in our organization.
Chad was one of her biggest success stories. Luigi came in second place. I trusted both with my sister’s safety when she was in NYC, which saideverything.
“Capo,” Luigi greeted, dipping his chin in salute.
“Any updates with the Albanians?”
“We have one barricaded in the VIP restroom and we had to cordon off the VIP floor?—”
“What?! That’ll be losing us hundreds of thousands of fucking dollars!”
“We had no choice,” Luigi countered, impressing me further by not breaking into a sweat at my roar.
Rory had told me that grief had aged me, but she’d claimed it had added a rabid kind of madness to my demeanor.
I assumed that meant I looked like biting people wasn’t above my pay grade.
