Page 123 of Thin Lives

Calisto was done playing Affonso’s games.

He was taking his son—his life—back.

“Calisto?”

Calisto spun on his heel at the new voice, coming face to face with Wolf Puzza. He’d been the one and only Donati man in the family that Calisto kept in contact with during the period he stayed away from Affonso after regaining his memories. Calisto trusted Wolf, but he didn’t trust a lot of other Donati men.

“I got here as quick as I could,” Wolf said.

“No worries—the doctor is doing his thing.”

Wolf scowled, shooting the bedroom door a look. “She okay?”

“Bruised, and terrified, but I’ll handle it one thing at a time. Right now, the one thing I need to handle is getting Cross back for her.”

And for him.

“You’ll handle it. Cal … the beating her thing, that’s never going to be okay with anybody. But you can’t force a man to give up his child.”

Except it wasn’t Affonso’s child.

Cross was Calisto’s boy—always fucking would be.

Calisto swallowed hard, knowing it was now or never. He needed to set himself up for the future as the Donati boss. There was no other options but for him to take the seat, otherwise, he risked the punishment from another man for what he planned to do to Affonso. But worse than even that was the idea of someone controlling Calisto and his choices again.

Affonso had done that enough.

Calisto refused to answer to another man in Cosa Nostra but himself.

“How long have we been friends?” Calisto asked.

Wolf shrugged, smirking a little. “Since we were kids, Cal.”

“You know I trust you, right?”

“Yeah, I got that over the last while.”

Calisto grinned, but it quickly faded. “He took my son, Wolf. Not his—mine. Cross is my boy.”

Wolf didn’t even blink at the admission. “Well, this makes much more sense.”

“Does it?”

“You seemed … close to her before the accident,” Wolf admitted. “Most overlooked it, but we’ve known each other a while. You don’t get invested in people. You were invested in her, for whatever reason.”

Calisto chose not to go into detail about his relationship with Emma. He had to protect her reputation from outside influences within the Donati Cosa Nostra, and from those outside of it. He would never allow her to be shamed simply because she had fallen in love with him. No, he would protect that—her—at all costs.

“I need to get Cross back, and I don’t care what I have to do in the process. She kept him safe for me, and the least I can do, is bring him back to her.”

The Capo cleared his throat, and shoved his hands in his pockets. The actions were far too blasé for Wolf, given how tense the man usually was, even when he seemed cool and calm. “And then what?”

Calisto’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“After you have him back, and Affonso is dead. Are you just going to out the fact he’s your son and you’ve been having an affair with your uncle’s wife to everyone? Is that the sort of problem you’re prepared to deal with? Because all I see there is an opening for someone to come at you—a retribution of sorts for a made man who broke every single rule he could and wants to get away with it.”

Jesus.

Calisto had to admit, Wolf made a good point.