But Dante?
Our men would have done anything for him. He was an asshole on his best day, but they would gladly pledge their allegiance to him.
He had to wake up.
“I need to see my dad,” I told Paulie, unable to give him an answer.
I’d been suspicious of his unauthorized actives for months. So until I had confirmation my father was dead, my brother’s lives in jeopardy, I couldn’t trust a fucking word out of his mouth.
Paulie’s dark eyebrows rose. “Didn’t you hear me, kid? He’s dead.”
I was almost thirty, and he still called me that. And I fucking hated it. In his eyes, I would always be a kid, the boss’s son. A lot of our guys were older, from the previous generation. Dante was only five years older than me, but they didn’t see him as a kid.
He’d earned the nickname ofre pazzo.
Mad king.
I crossed my arms over my suit-clad chest, taking a deep breath through my nose. “I’m not doing anything until I see my family. Dead or alive.”
Paulie gave me a light shrug. “Okay, kid. It’s your funeral.”
He spun on his heels and strolled toward the front door, expecting us to follow him like obedient dogs.
My feet stayed planted on the floor. I couldn’t move, let alone think, until I had time to process the situation.
Dad is dead.
Fuck.
“Nico.” Ava’s voice snapped me out of my head. She clutched my arm and looked up at me, eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears. “You have to take me. I need to see them.” Her top lip quivered. “Please.”
One look at my beautiful girl, and I got my shit together. For her, I had to be strong.
She needed her rock.
I held out my arm for her to grab hold. “C’mon. Let’s go see my brothers.”
ChapterThree
AVA
Isat in the waiting room beside Nico, crying on his chest. The tears hadn't stopped flowing since Paulie told us about the shooting. Dante was out of surgery but unconscious. The twins had also pulled through, but we hadn't received any other updates.
They had to live.
Dozens of made men sat in the room with us dressed in black suits. You could tell they weren't businessmen. They had a severe look to their gazes, a hardness to their exteriors.
Nico tapped his fingers on his knee as if he were moving to an imaginary beat. He hadn't spoken much or even cried, trying to stay strong for me. And now, he had men gathered around him, expecting the same.
Nico would be the next boss of the Luciano crime family if Dante didn't make it. I could see the fear in his eyes when Paulie told him. Even his body language changed.
Salvatore broke the rules when he admitted Nico into the family. But how could he deny his son just because his mother was Irish?
He was still a Luciano.
After an hour of waiting, the mood in the room was somber. All conversation died off, leaving us with background noise from the busy hospital to fill the void. I clung to Nico's side, attempting to steady my rapid heartbeat.
All of Angelo and Stefan's men surrounded us. Nico didn't have a crew of his own, which seemed to create distance between him and the other guys. They didn't speak to Nico the way they did his brothers. He was Paulie's shadow and reported directly to the boss.
