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I don’t tell her that Brazil might not be so safe anyway. I don’t mention Nico’s threat. I’ll take care of it all on my own. She just has to be safe.
“Promise me you won’t put yourself in any danger,” Lucia says.
I hesitate. We’ve been in danger all our lives.
“I promise,” I finally say.
“Liar. You’re such a liar, Rory,” she says with a sigh. “Just be careful. Let me know immediately if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Will do, lil’ sis,” I assure her.
“And one more thing,” Lucia states. “You and Nico, I don’t know what really happened between you two, but he might be your best chance of navigating the outfit.”
“You want me to ask him for help?” I scoff.
“I want you to be smart. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He used to be your friend once, and now you hate him, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s back in your life. For better or worse. I don’t like it either, but I am sure of one thing.”
“Which is?”
“He would never hurt you.”
Silence follows that pronouncement. I stare into nothingness and grit my teeth.
“There are many different methods to hurt someone, amore. And Nico is a master at them all.”
Four days later, I’m at a store purchasing some materials for a job when my phone dings with a text. From Nico.
Valerio died last night. My breath seizes at that, but I carry on reading the rest of the text.
I’ve heard regret hurts like a fucking bitch, Aurora. I hope you feel all that pain and more. The funeral’s in two days. Last chance to say your goodbyes.
I tighten my hold on my phone, nearly crushing it in my fist as I read his words over and over again. There’s really only one thing I can say in reply.
Fuck you, Nico.
He doesn’t send any other texts after that, going radio silent. He’s already said all he wanted to say.
Despite his stupid text, I don’t go to Valerio’s funeral. Throughout the day, I only waver once. What makes me waver is remembering that in the past ten years, a substantial sum of money has been wired into both mine and my sisters’ accounts at the beginning of each year. We both know it’s from our father, but we’ve never tried to confirm it, and we’ve also never used it.
But it does prove one thing. That he thought of us. At least once every year, he remembered to wire his daughters money. That’s not a symbol of love however. It doesn’t prove anything. So even when a voice in my head whispers to go to the funeral, I grit my teeth and stay put.
He’s already dead. He’s gone and there’s no taking anything back.
CHAPTER 6
NICO
There’s a pensiveness in the air after the funeral of one of the greatest men I’ve ever known.
Valerio Maranzano died a fucking legend, as is clear by the vast majority of people that are in attendance at his funeral. There are Dons present from all over the country, especially New York. Members of the Irish mafia, heads of the Mexican drug cartels, and the BMF. Even the Yakuza. I look around at the few members of the Japanese mafia standing among us. Every single man that has an alliance with the outfit has shown up the pay their respects.
The funeral goes by without a hitch. When it’s over, I feel a certain type of emptiness. I haven’t grieved Valerios’ death. I have no idea how to do so. I spent the majority of his final days with him. He had a lot to say, and I listened. And when he breathed his last, I was right by his side.
Right now, I’m in the back of my car, being driven toward the compound, which was Valerios’ house. All members of the outfit have been invited there for the customary drinks, a sort of revelry to pay our last respects. When my men and I arrive there however, we’re barred from entering.
Irritation swirls in my gut as Sebastian strides into the open courtyard we’re currently standing in. He’s wearing a black suit with a black coat thrown over his shoulders. The wrinkles on his face are more pronounced, his brown eyes alert. I didn’t think he’d pull this shit today of all days.
“What now, Sebastian?” I ask.
