“No one,” I repeated, not veering away from the line I’d given Vida. I placed my hands on either side of Vida, the cool metal of the counter seeping into my palms. Noemi raised her perfectly shaped brow, silently telling me that I wasn’t fooling her. “Fine.” I rolled my eyes, feeling every bit like the teenager I was only a few years ago. I may have been about to turn twenty and Noemi twenty-six, but that didn’t matter when it came to our relationship. At heart, we’d always be the angsty teens fighting over who got to stay up later—which was always Noemi because she was the oldest. “He’s captain of the lacrosse team.”
“What’s lacrosse?” Vida asked as she twirled my hair around her finger. She’d been trying to learn how to braid, but all she’d managed so far was a twisted version that left behind an epic number of knots.
“It’s a rich guy’s game,” Noemi spluttered, unable to keep a straight face as she said it. “So, he brought you home, huh?”
“Yep.” I pulled Vida off the counter and hoisted my backpack on my shoulder, itching to get away from this interrogation. I stepped around the back, so I was closer to Noemi and the door that led to the stairs of our small apartment. “He also asked me if I wanted to go out.” I darted away, knowing what would come next, but I didn’t have time to talk it to death with Noemi. Partly because I still didn’t understand it. I’d never spoken to Brad. During high school, I’d learned to keep to myself, and I’d perfected it by the time I’d gotten to college.
“What?” Noemi’s voice got louder as I ran up the stairs, and as I turned at the top, I saw her at the bottom, staring up at me with wide eyes. “You’re going on a date with him?”
I shrugged. I’d told him I would, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know Brad, but wasn’t getting to know the other person the whole point of a date? “Sure,” I whispered to Noemi, then spun around, getting as far away from her as I could so I didn’t have to think about it any longer.
CHAPTER 2
LORENZO
Everyone was dressed in black, a sign of mourning but also respect for the head of the Beretta family. We stood in a line; first me, then Ma, followed by my little brother, Dante, then my little sister, Sofia. People shook our hands, apologizing for our loss, but none of it sunk in, not until my father was buried six feet under the ground.
It was tradition to have people at the house after a funeral, but all I wanted was silence and space, neither of which I would get today—or what felt like ever again. As soon as we pulled up to the Beretta mansion we’d all grown up in, my body worked on automatic. I walked through the double wooden doors, carved with an elaborate B and gilded with gold. The double-sided staircase led to the upstairs wings, but it wasn’t there that I moved toward. Instead, I headed down the hallway and toward the second door on the left, past the living room that no one ever sat in, and into my dad’s office.
The door squeaked as I opened it, and part of me wondered if I would see my father sitting behind his desk, just like he’d always been. But he wasn’t. The room was empty of life—empty of him. A glass of half-drunk whisky sat on the middle of his desk with a couple of papers next to it.
I walked past the two matching leather sofas and toward the drink cart in the corner adorned with all kinds of spirits. It was my father’s favorite whisky that I picked up, not bothering with a glass. Today wasn’t the day to hide how I felt, no matter how much I should have. Dad dying didn’t just mean he wasn’t in my life anymore. Our entire family hung in the balance, and the pressure of what was about to come pushed down on my shoulders, threatening to knock me off-kilter.
“You gonna share that?” a deep voice asked, but I didn’t have the energy to turn and face him. I knew who it was.
“Nope.” I strode toward my dad’s desk and sat on his old, leather chair. “Get your own bottle.”
“Nah,” he replied, and I finally looked up at him—Christian Gallo, my best friend since before I could remember. He pushed his hand through his short inky black hair. “Think I’ll stay sober for now.”
I snorted. There was no way I could face what would happen today. As if this morning wasn’t enough, I had to prepare for a meeting with The Enterprise. Ma said it couldn’t wait, that it had to be done asap, but all I wanted was one goddamn day so I could bury my father and not have to worry about the family.
I leaned back in the chair and took a swig of the thousand-dollar liquid, loving the burn at the back of my throat. “Are they all out there?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yep.” Christian leaned on the arm of one of the sofas, his hands in his slacks pockets. “They sent me in to see if you’re ready.”
Inhaling a breath and closing my eyes to gain clarity, I replied, “I’m ready.” It was a lie, and I had a feeling Christian knew that, but there was nothing either of us could have done about it.
Christian didn’t say another word as he walked across the office and opened the door, letting everyone in. Ma was the first to step inside, her emotions carefully put aside for the moment. She’d been the perfect wife to the head of this family, and I wondered if she’d miss it now. She wasn’t just mourning for the loss of her husband, but also the place in the family she’d held for so long. Uncle Alonzo and Uncle Antonio followed behind, and bringing up the rear was my brother, Dante. He shut the door behind them all, and I knew then that this would be the meeting before the official meeting.
No one said a word as Ma and my uncles sat on the sofas. Christian and Dante stood to the side, watching and listening for what was about to happen. The words were coming, I knew they were, and as soon as they were spoken, nothing would be the same. It wouldn’t be my dad everyone looked to for answers, but me.
My heart hammered in my chest, and I wasn’t sure which of them to look at while I waited for everything to change.
“We have a problem,” Ma started.
I whipped my attention to her. Those weren’t the words I’d expected to hear.
Ma looked to Uncle Alonzo, and once he nodded, she continued, “Your dad wanted you to take over the…business.” I blinked. I’d known this since I was a little kid. It wasn’t like the prospect of me being head of the Beretta Mafia was new to me. I’d been taking on more responsibility lately, almost as if my father knew something nobody else did. “But…there are rules.”
“Rules?” I snorted, not expecting that word. “What kind of rules?”
“Rules for you to become boss,” Uncle Alonzo said, his deep voice gaining my attention. His dark-brown hair was peppered with gray, and even though he was sixty-one years old, he didn’t look a day over forty.
“What the fuck you talkin’ about?” I stood, the bottle of whisky held tightly in my hand. “Dad died, and I’m the oldest son. That’s all anyone needs to understand.” I stormed from around the desk and toward the door. I wasn’t going to sit here and listen to this. I’d buried my dad hours ago, and now they were telling me I had to follow some fuckin’ rules I’d never even heard of? Fuck that. I was the new boss of the Beretta family, whether people liked it or not. It was my birthright. I’d been a captain of my own soldiers for years, I was used to dictating what would happen around me, and I wasn’t about to change that now.