Page 7 of Waste of Worth

It’d taken years, but Dino finally had the control over his siblings that he’d fought for where his uncle Ben and aunt Carmela were concerned. After the death of his parents, Ben had beaten Dino black and blue that very same night when he thought to take his brother and sister with him to be cared for.

Ben couldn’t have that—he wanted control.

Control of the DeLuca name, of the children left behind that he could shape and mold, and of the teenaged boy he’d already been slowly moving away from his father.

Ben wanted all of that, and he’d gotten it.

That was the first time Dino learned Ben was not to be trusted.

The second time was worse than the first …

“Anyway, she’s happy, and keeps sending me postcards with pictures,” Dino explained.

To some it probably seemed stupid for him to talk to a grave. His mother’s body had long rotted away in a casket six feet under, and her soul was gone high above, likely.

But it helped.

Very few things helped Dino.

Knowing he had to go and chat with Riley Conti for the sake of peace and business, Dino said a quiet goodbye to his mother, giving the headstone one more pat with his hand before he stood straight. Dino fixed his jacket as he weaved in and out of the other markers, careful not to step on the graves as that was just disrespectful to the dead.

And he’d kill any fucking fool who stepped on his mother’s grave.

He’d just stepped onto the stone pathway heading back toward the parking lot of the church when something rammed back into him from behind.

The quiet ommpf sound was followed by a quick apology.

“Sorry!”

Dino spun on his heel, coming face to face with a young woman that held a large camera in her hands and eyes so wide he was pretty sure he would be able to see his reflection in the brown depths if he looked hard enough. She was pretty—beautiful, even—in an unassuming way, with her earth-toned clothing and her long, caramel-colored hair tied up in a messy bun at the very top of her head. The sunglasses on her head fell down over her face, hiding those eyes of hers, as she took another step backward.

She pushed the sunglasses back to the crown of her head.

Dino was still staring at her, quite unsure of what to do.

“You okay?” he asked.

The woman nodded, smiling just a bit.

That led his attention to the gentle curve of her pink lips, and the way her shoulder lifted at the same time.

“My fault,” she replied. “I was walking backward to get the right shot—missed you coming out from behind the statue. Nice day for photos, though, so I couldn’t help myself. I get the best ones in the cemeteries.”

Dino’s brow furrowed.

She talked a lot.

He barely talked at all, even when he was forced into conversation.

Maybe that was why he felt so awkward standing there, unsure of what to say or if she even wanted him to.

“I saw you, though,” the girl continued. “Over there, right?”

She pointed back toward his mother’s grave.

Dino just blinked. “Uh.”

She didn’t seem the slightest bit put off by his lack of communication, instead, rolling right on with whatever she had to say next.