Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
My father’s voice is a vicious snarl when he looks down at Tommaso and says, “That was all his doing.”
Tommaso’s expression is carved from arrogance, but there’s something else there now too. Behind the nicks and bruises is a fear he tries to mask with confidence. “There are rules you can’t ignore, Giuseppe. My grandchild gives me immunity.”
My laugh is bitter. “The grandchild your daughter just admitted can’t possibly be hers?” I shift on my feet to face Valeria. “What did you say again? You didn’t want to get fat, so you paid the IVF nurse to insert my sperm directly into Valentina.”
Tommaso’s expression announces his wish to add to the bruises that have faded on Valeria’s face, but he continues to play the game with narcissistic tendencies he always utilizes.
“Not that grandchild.” He locks his eyes with mine, then gleams like blood isn’t smeared across his teeth. “The one in Valentina’s stomach.”
I stagger back as if he swung at me with an axe, but he isn’t the only one skilled in acting. “Accusations like that will get you killed… slowly and painfully.”
My father’s voice breaks through the drumming in my ears. “It isn’t an accusation.” Blood dots Tommaso’s chin when my father proves age doesn’t weaken a man’s protective instincts. He kicks Tommaso in the stomach, folding him in half. “It took Concetta’s reaction to Tommaso’s arrival for me to locate the final piece of the puzzle.” His following confession sideswipes me. “Valeria isn’t Tommaso’s only daughter. Valentina is his daughter, too.”
“What?” That didn’t come from me. It came from Matteo, who’s forming a protective wall in the entryway with the rest of my brothers.
My father’s demeanor is so calm anyone would swear he was discussing the weather. “When Valentina was born, a much older and ill-advised midwife ganged up on her younger and more vulnerable patient. She told Concetta that a father’s name must be on the birth certificate, no matter how horrid he was, or their request for asylum in the United States would be denied. Concetta was so fearful he’d find them quicker in Sicily than he would in the US that her handwriting was barely legible when she placed his name on Valentina’s birth certificate. Valentina’s surname was registered as—”
“Raimondi instead of Raimondo,” I fill in as the fog slowly lifts.
My eyes shoot to Valeria as my father continues unraveling the massive net holding my family hostage. “Everyone missed the truth because Tommaso went by his mother’s maiden name until his thirties. He didn’t want anyone to know he was associated with the man who used to beat his mother to a pulp every night, even with him not doing a damn thing about it.” He spits at Tommaso’s feet, disgusted. “You were a grown man for half their marriage, yet you watched your mother be beaten every fucking night.”
When Tommaso doesn’t attempt to refute his claims, bile rises in my throat. I shouldn’t be surprised by his cowardice. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Tommaso turned out the same as his father—violent, manipulative, and rotten to the core.
As my father’s anger eclipses the leadership that brought our family great power, his tone lowers. “He changed his name when he found out at his father’s funeral that the Guiffridas had ties with several influential families. The most notable…”
“The Carusos,” I say with him, the haze fully lifted.
My father nods. “That was a month after Concetta fled the country.” When his anger gets the better of him, his boot lands in Tomasso’s stomach for the second time tonight.
Tomasso only smirks.
Valentina’s pregnancy makes him believe he has the world at his feet. He thinks it ties him to the Cosa Nostra for life.
I’ve yet to reach the same conclusion.
He didn’t lie when he said there are rules that protect him, but those same rules will cause his demise.
“You poisoned her,” I say, eyes locked on Tommaso. “You tried to kill your own daughter, and the woman I love, to punish me.”
Fools who think they have immunity are always the fastest to catch.
The loose skin under Tomasso’s jaw wobbles when he jerks up his chin. “I didn’t know she was my daughter at the time, but since your father can’t keep his nose out of where it doesn’t belong, I was gifted a lifeline not even you can take away.”
Idiot.
He just showed his hand, and he’s holding nothing but jokers.
“You got that, right?” I ask, stalking closer to Tomasso, my steps deathly quiet.
“From every fucking angle,” Nico replies on behalf of the family.
With comms down to keep this in-house, my brothers had to record Tomasso’s confession on their phones. Their footage is all the evidence I need to receive a full pardon for killing him.
When I pinch Tommaso’s forehead with the barrel of my gun, his breathing spikes. He still tries to play it cool, though. “You can’t kill me. I have immunity.”