Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
But when I get there, Nunzio’s voice echoes through the mostly empty space. “—gonna miss the good old days, right, pal?”
He doesn’t sound happy. I pause, not sure why, and peer around the corner. Byron’s standing with him, the pair of them sharing a bottle of wine, drinking straight from the neck.
“I think you romanticize the old days too much,” Byron says, swirling the bottle. “And this stuff is so bad I wouldn’t cook with it.”
Nunzio laughs and snatches it away. “You’re such a fucking prick. But I’m being serious. Life was good around here. Boring, but easy. Shit ran like clockwork. Until the bitch showed up.”
“I’m not sure how any of this is June’s fault.”
My chest heaves. I’m the bitch? I’m tempted to storm out there, but embarrassment and fear keep me in place.
“I admit, boss was losing his shit even before she came around.” Nunzio swigs from the bottle and gestures with it violently. “Pretty sure he’s got a few screws loose, you know what I mean? But throwing the girl in the mix and now all this is a pain in the ass.”
“You work too hard.” Byron takes the wine from him. “Maybe you should take a break.”
“And who’s going to pay my father’s medical bills?” His voice is low and thoughtful. “That man gave his life to the Corvinos, and now look at him.”
“Old age happens to everyone.”
“They’re trying to push him out. You know that, right?”
“I don’t believe it.”
“You’re such a pussy, Byron, I’m fucking serious here. Rafe’s making changes to this place.”
“It’s not my problem.” Byron steps away when Nunzio tries to take the alcohol again. “And we’re done unloading. You should get back to work.”
“Since when did you get a spine?” Nunzio steps forward and grabs Byron by the hair. I open my mouth to say something—
Until Byron viciously kisses Nunzio.
Their embrace lasts a long moment, the two men violently making out, before Byron shoves him away. “We’re not doing this right now.”
“Tell that to your hard dick.”
“Fuck off.” Byron sounds happy though. “Seriously, I’m sorry about your dad, but you know it isn’t Rafe’s fault, and it’s not June’s either. She barely knows what’s going on around here.”
Nunzio turns away and his voice gets serious. “You barely know too, you idiot. No, shut up and listen. You might have to make a choice sometime soon. You might have to decide if you believe your shit and think Rafe and his bitch wife are decent people, or if protecting them isn’t worth getting yourself killed. I hope you make the right call.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Means what I said.” Nunzio brushes himself down. “You kiss like a slut. I love it.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Nunzio laughs, dodging a slap from Byron, and stalks out of the kitchen.
I back away once he’s gone, heart racing, head trying to make sense of what I just heard.
Byron and Nunzio are a thing? I had no clue. I’ve never even seen them together before, though that’s probably the point. I doubt being gay is highly accepted in a super macho mafia family.
That’s not what bothers me.
No, it’s what Nunzio said about making a choice.
How is it going to get Byron killed?
And what does he even mean?
I’m deeply bothered as I wander back to where Priya and Hattie are sitting.
“Mommy, apples?”
“Sorry, baby, I’ll get them in a bit.” I sit down at the table. “Mind if I join you?”
“By all means.” Priya smiles kindly. “Everything okay?”
“Totally fine. Just in the mood to draw a picture.”
Hattie nods seriously. “Unicorns,” she says, pointing at the crayons. “Lots of unicorns.”
25
RAFE
For the first time since I hired her straight out of law school, Theodora looks rattled. She paces in front of my desk, a sheaf of papers tucked under her arm. “It was all right there. For years, he barely tried to hide it.”
I wait patiently for her to get to the point. “What did you find?”
“I trusted him. That was the problem. I knew better, and I did it anyway.”
“We all trusted him.”
“But it’s my fault.” She stops walking and slams the pages down on her chair. She lets out a frustrated laugh. “I worked with him all the time, you know? He’s your family’s accountant. We’d go over numbers together and I never bothered to check anything.”
“Why would you? Ignazio’s been controlling the Corvino books for decades.”
“That’s just it. That’s exactly what I should have been wary of. Someone with that much access, where they’re the single choke point, they always go off the rails. It’s classic.”
“I understand you’re upset, but I’m starting to wonder what set you off.”
“It’s the numbers.” She flips through the papers until she finds what she’s looking for. “They’re wrong.”
I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shows me a spreadsheet, meticulously typed and highlighted. I follow the colors and she walks me through it, explaining how one column doesn’t add up to the other.