“Huh?”
“You’re good at this whole setting people up thing, but I'm way better at it.”
“I can attest to that.” Izzy rubs her belly. But Craig’s frown makes me think he doesn’t believe me.
“Oh, okay.”
“How long have you been Amanda’s lighting director for her live events?”
“Four years now. My dad ran the company before he had to step aside due to health issues.”
“And he started?”
“Like ten or eleven years before that. I’m not sure.”
I take another sip of coffee. “Did you know the company who used to do her lights and stage props was from my hometown?”
“No.” He blinks a few times.
“Yep, the owner was a real asshole, and his son was a prick. I think he’s in jail now.” I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. But you were doing Habitat for Humanity and working as an intern for your dad, right?”
“Uh huh.”
I put down the coffee mug and lock eyes with him. “I vaguely remember showing her your picture like twelve years ago. Hmm, and look where that got you.”
“You planned this?” His jaw hangs open. “Over a decade ago?”
“It wasn’t exactly how I planned it, but the important stuff happened.” I pat him on the shoulder. “If you are ever wondering what to get me, I don’t like carnations. They’re cheap and they smell bad.” Then I motion to the women in the living room. “Thanks for being the practice round. They were the real endgame.”
CHAPTER 31
Alana
Day 10
Her home smells like roses and garlic. The last time I was here, I thought we were going to bury her. Nope, like a phoenix, Nonna rose from the ashes of an assassination attempt and spent two weeks in a villa in Naples. She also recruited Teddy and his partner to do some handy work. I’m not sure how or if she paid them, but he didn’t complain.
Of all the members of the Four Families, I’ve known her the longest. As a lifelong friend of the matriarch of the most powerful family in the world, Rhea Olympian, Nonna has her own life of secrets. Far more than any mob wife should have. She had more power and money as well—but her husband only knew a fraction of it.
Roughly twenty years ago, give or take a few, the Irish and Italian mothers lost their children in a betrayal so heinous Nonna refused to speak of it. Instead, she asked her best friend to help with vengeance. Rhea waited for the right series of circumstances. Enemies with common interests and weak alliances, united over a common goal of money and power. A mid-tier generational crime family aligning with the outcasts of a crime superpower, and a drug that was a by-product of an untapped, energy-changing resource. To seek vengeance on Rita, Nonna’s adoptive daughter who killed her own brother and his wife, making Joey an orphan, a plan needed to be made.
Step 1: Set the current ruling generation up with power. Step 2: Ensure the next generation has a future. Step 3: Seize power by the total annihilation of an enemy. Step 4: Make it public and spread the word around the world. Step 5: Kill all the enemies of the Four Families, or at least the ones who are dumb enough to make a move. Step 6: Free the youngest members of the Four Families from the shackles of generational power and danger. Rhea made good on her promise to her friend and helped drop a bomb on her enemies.
Hi. I’m the bomb. I came in for Steps 2 through 6… well, I’m still working it.
Two years ago, the Deviant's father was killed, and his only money-making venture was burnt to the ground in minutes. Was it business? Yes. Was it also personal? Fuck yeah. Then Rita was killed three months ago—that one I didn’t do, and I’m kinda pissed about it. Now there’s only one loose end: the Deviant.
Once that’s done, I would walk away from the Four Families. Maybe I’ll even leave the Olympians too. But now, I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.
“Alana, my dear, come sit down.” Nonna moves around her kitchen, making tea.
“How was the trip?”
“Loud, colorful, hot, and my legs hurt.” Her hair is in a scarf like she’s still living in 1950's Hollywood. Her smile is rare, and I feel blessed to see it. “Thank you for a wonderful family experience.”
She places a teacup on the table in front of me, and I pretend not to notice how it’s shaking in her hands, or the rattle it makes as the porcelain touches the table. She groans a little as she sits down. “The air is getting cooler. This might be my last autumn here.”
“Do you plan on dying soon?” I love a good plan, but this one I can’t get behind.
