Page 128 of Unlock My Heart

“Truce,” we both vow, and we shake on it, bound by blood.

“What else?” I toss the knife in the air, catching it before I slide it across the desk.

“Complete ownership of my restaurant and hotel belongs to me, as both of those are my personal ventures,” Angelo tells me matter-of-factly. “As for our seafood company, I’ll remain a one-third owner, with you and Al.”

“No objections to any of that. And your proposed buyout for the family side of things?” I press, worried I may have jinxed it, because it can’t be this fucking easy.

“The twenty million you bilked out of me from the hotel deal. Plus, a fifty percent cut from your monthly take of illegitimate earnings while I’m mayor, the proceeds funneled through said personal ventures. Oh, and I get to break your finger.”

“You still holding on to that?” I taunt him.

“Yes.” The muscles in Angelo’s jaw tighten. “With a crooked finger.”

Fabien

Nineteen-year-old

“Hey, Mama.” I stick my head in her music room, concealing a scowl. She’s seated on her piano bench beside Angelo, doting on her favorite son and his musical acumen.

“Fabien, take a seat,” Mama tells me.

“I actually need to talk to⁠—”

Angelo begins pounding on the keys, drowning out my voice.

“Papà.” Gritting my teeth, I turn around and walk out.

I go in search of Vitto, finding him in his office with Michele.

“Boss. Michele.” I nod.

“Fabien, my boy, good to see you. Chantelle says hello,” Michele taunts.

“That’s nice. Tell your wife I said hello,” I say, just to fuck with him. Michele’s wife is a little mouse of a woman who wisely stays out of family business.

Michele’s face turns beet red.

“Michele, that will be all.” Vitto dismisses his capo with the flick of his hand.

Michele eyes me down as he walks out, but I don’t take the bait, at least not in front of the boss.

“Have a seat.”

I sit across from my father, and he watches me intently. “I don’t recall us having a meeting scheduled.”

“We didn’t. I just stopped by to let you and Mama know that I’ve closed on my first real estate deal. I’ll be moving into my own place at the end of the month.”

Vitto considers me. “Ice business must be booming.”

Worried this is another trap, I answer tentatively, “It’s doing alright.”

He rises, walking around his desk and leaning against it.

“You think you can dethrone me, boy?” Moving fast, he sucker punches me in the nose.

Blood gushes, and I cry out, “Fuck!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” he chides, cracking my nose back into place with an ungodly painful crunch. “Remember, I see everything.”