Loosening my tie and shutting the front door, the exhaustion takes over. I’m ready to get into bed. A whole night with Rosa was perfect; it was everything. But we didn’t sleep, not one second.

I come to a standstill at the raised voices coming from a back room.

“This is my home, now get the fuck out, you old bitch!” Maria’s screeching voice reverberates off the walls.

“This is my son’s home. You are the one who is not welcome in our lives. You think I don’t know what your family is up to?”

My mom’s voice has me running to the kitchen. As I round the corner, I replace her–sixty years old, five foot nothing–squaring up to Maria.

I rush over and wrap my arms around mom’s shoulders. I don’t need the Capris having an excuse to hurt her.

“What the fuck is going on?”

My mom whips her head to glare at me. “Language.”

I hold her stare in warning, turning my attention back to my fiancé. Her dark hair is pulled back in a bun and her huge lips are painted bright pink.

“You don’t speak to my mother like that. This is my home, and she’s more welcome here than you are.” I step towards her. “What did I tell you, Maria? I told you, you behave how I tell you to in my home.”

She tips her chin up in defiance and laughs. “You have no idea. Why don’t you tell your mom what you were up to last night?” She lets out a sadistic chuckle, looking at my mom.

“Working.” I keep my voice stern.

“You will both regret this.” She jabs her finger into my chest. “You’ll do well to remember that I come first now. I made that clear, my father made that clear. So, you won’t be having any family over anymore. This is my house now.”

She pushes herself off my chest and storms up the stairs. Running a hand through my hair, I turn to Mom, who’s looking at me with concern on her face.

“You need to call this off.” She points up to the stairs where Maria just exited.

“I can’t. There’s too much on the line.”

Grabbing two tumblers out of the cupboard, I pour in the Macallan and slide one to mom.

“What about that girl? Rosa?” she asks quietly.

“She’s engaged.” I cast my eyes down and swallow the contents of my glass, letting it burn its way down.

“I told you not to let her go and look what’s happened.” She smacks me on the back of the head.

“There’s still a glimmer of hope for us, I think,” I say, rubbing where she hit me.

“Luca Russo. An affair? Really?!” She slams her palm on the counter next to her glass.

“Shh.” I flick my eyes towards the stairs.

“I put up with a lot from you. I turn a blind eye at your antics. But this, watching you throw away your chance at love, is breaking my heart, son.”

“I can’t replace a way to have it all, Mom.” Shrugging my shoulders, I take another long drink of the biting liquor.

She steps towards me and her wrinkly hand grabs mine.

“Then you choose what will make you happy. That’s all you can ask for out of life, love, and happiness.” Her eyes brim with tears and a lump forms in my throat as I watch.

“Just think about it, really think about what or who you want. I want more grandbabies preferably. All I want is to see my sons living the lives they always dreamed of, the lives they never imagined when they were fighting to survive on the streets.”

I wrap my arms around her frail frame, my emotions getting the better of me.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, son.” She squeezes me.

And I know what I have to do.

I have to pick my heart.

“Come on, let’s get you away from the bitch. Do you have some of that garlic chicken at home?”

She chuckles and pulls back.

“No, but you can help me make it today.” She pins me with a stare.

“Fine, if I must.”

“You know, me and Dom used to cook together every night. His cooking was far better than mine. I learned everything you love from that man.”

I smile down at her and wrap my arms around her shoulders as we walk to my car, thinking about how me and Rosa would cook together in my kitchen. That damn smile on her face when she finally nailed that carbonara recipe. When I came home, the kitchen was a complete whirlwind, oil splattered up the tiles. Rosa’s cheeks were flushed with pure concentration on her face and her lips pursed as she grated the parmesan on the top.

It was perfect.

“What are you smiling like a damn idiot about?” she asks before I shut her door.

“Nothing.” I shake my head.

I roll up to the warehouse and check the time, I’m only half an hour late to meet the commissioner. It took longer than expected at Mom’s. She only had half the ingredients, so we had to go shopping first. All she talked about was Rosa. And her pure hatred for Maria. According to my mom, she has a bad aura.

The door squeaks as I push it open, stacks of wooden pallets line the sides of the warehouse as I walk through towards the office.

Commissioner O’Reilly is sitting at the desk, tapping his pen against his whiskey glass, watching the clock tick up on the wall.

“Sorry I’m late.” I salute him.

“You’re lucky I have a day off today, boy. This had best be important. My daughter is taking me to the shooting range today.” He isn’t in his formal blues today, but a pair of khakis and a dark polo. He almost looks like a regular person.

“Can your daughter out shoot you?” She must be good. I know some of those ribbons he wears on his uniform are for marksmanship.

“Almost.” He flashes a smug smile as he leans back.

I take a seat opposite him, and he motions for me to spit it out.

“I need to take Romano out sooner than planned,” I say bluntly.

He looks down his hawkish nose at me. “No.”

“It wasn’t really a question. I’ve set it in motion. I can do it in Italy, away from here.”

He stands, his chair scraping against the concrete. He walks around the table and clasps my shoulder.

“Have you lost your damn mind? In his territory, you really think they won’t slaughter your whole family in retaliation? It has to be done here.”

Fuck, I shake my head. He’s right.

“Get your head out of the clouds, Russo. You’re a mafia boss, not some normal guy who wants a wife and kids and a nine-to-five. You’ll never be able to have that. You need to do this here, and quietly, where we can get rid of any trace of them.”

He pats me a little too hard on the back, and I drop my head, squeezing the bridge of my nose.

A life I never asked for.

“I’ll see you for the next payment. You need to see the plan through, boy.”

I don’t have time. I need them gone, out of the way. I don’t want to wait another day to have Rosa. But then I think about Keller and little Darcy. And the calm and collected way Romano threatened a baby.

“Fine.”

He slams the door behind him, and I pick up the tumbler from the table and smash it against the wall.

“Motherfucker!”

Everyone else around me can have it all. I have sacrificed my life for their happiness, for what? To be used as a hitman for the cops. Taking out the leaders they don’t have the balls to.

Gripping onto the sides of the table, I steady my breath.

There’s only one thing I want.

Only one person I want.

My Tesoro.

But, the commissioner is right about one thing: I’m Luca Motherfucking Russo, and I’ll take what I want.

I have to replace a way.

Tip: You can use left, right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.Tap the middle of the screen to reveal Reading Options.

If you replace any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.

Report