“So eager to grow up.” He smirked. “There is time. One day soon, Lorenzo. Soon.”
I knew we were done here. This rare father-son moment was over, and I’d go back to being nothing more than a pain in his ass.
“Go on. Go clean up and play with your cousins.”
“Okay.” My head hung low as I moved around him. But at the last second, he snagged my wrist and hope swelled in my chest.
Maybe he wanted to hang out some more. Even if we were skinning rabbits, it was better than him pretending I didn’t exist.
I waited, my mouth hanging open like a dog waiting for scraps. “P-Papà?” I said, filling the heavy silence.
And then he said seven little words that would one day mean everything to me.
“Blood is life, Lorenzo. Never forget that.”
Chapter 1
Enzo
“E, that’s enough.” My cousin Matteo’s voice barely penetrated the roar of adrenaline in my ears as I drove my brass knuckles into the guy’s face. The skin along his cheekbone split wide open, blood spraying into the air like a fine mist.
“Stop,” he whimpered, trying desperately to clutch at my arm. “Please, stop.”
“I’ll stop when you tell us what we need to know, stronzo.”
“I-I already told you… I don’t know nothing.”
Whack.
I hit him again.
His face was a mangled mess, but I didn’t care. The asshole was a rat, the lowest of the low. He could rot in hell for all I cared. I was only here to get answers.
“I’m gonna ask you again, tell me what the fuck you know?”
He trembled like a pussy, a wet patch staining his pants, the smell of piss permeating the already stale air. “I-I… please…” His right eye was swollen shut, his lips puffy and sore.
I raised my fist, ready to lay into him again, but Matteo snagged my wrist. “Enough,” he snapped. Our eyes met, and I saw the disapproval shining there.
My cousin never did like getting his hands dirty. He was a lover, not a fighter. But love didn’t get you anywhere, especially not in our business.
“I suggest you let me the fuck go, cousin,” I seethed.
“I’m not going to let you do this, E. Uncle Toni’s orders were to feel the guy out, not leave his eyeball hanging out of its socket.”
“He knows who pulled that shit at Johnny Morello’s.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He lowered his voice as if the guy currently tied to the chair could think about anything besides the pain he was in. “But I’m not about to let you kill the guy because you’re looking for something to take your anger out on.”
“It’s not your call to make,” I gritted out, feeling a lick of irritation.
Matt didn’t get it.
Nobody did.
I needed this.
I needed to feel the crunch of flesh under my brass knuckles. I needed to hear the grunts of pain. I needed the cloying stench of blood.
I needed it all.
“No,” he yanked out his cell phone, “but it’s not yours either.”
Fuck.
Fuck!
“I won’t let you do this, E. You want to go into self-destruct mode, fine. I get it. But I won’t stand by and watch you lose yourself. So you can either back the fuck up, or I can call for back up.” He pinned me with a look that said he wasn’t going to give me a choice.
“You never did have the balls for this life, coglioni.” I spat the words out, tearing off my brass knuckles and shouldering past him.
I heard his long exhale of relief, but it didn’t tamper the anger vibrating inside me.
The guy tied to the chair, bleeding out, was a rat.
A traitor.
He deserved everything he had coming to him and more.
Barreling through the back door of the club where we sometimes handled business, I spilled out into the inky night. It was New Year’s Eve, and it was fucking freezing. When I inhaled a ragged breath, it burned my lungs, but no more than the smoke I was about to light up.
Matteo found me a few minutes later, sucking on the cigarette as if my life depended on it. “Those fucking things will kill you,” he grumbled, wafting the tendrils of smoke away.
“It’s this or I go back in there and finish what I started.”
“What the fuck has gotten into you?” His expression softened with concern.
“Like you really have to ask.”
He knew.
The entire Family knew.
“Look,” he let out a sigh, “I know it was a shock, but it’s been weeks. Vincen—”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” I clipped out.
You couldn’t put a timeline on discovering your father, the man