Prologue

Lorenzo

 

 

 

 

The brownstone was always busy these days. What with taking over after my father as the Capo dei Capi—boss of all bosses—and the power struggles, loyalties, and disloyalty that came with such a big change. Add on the constant renovations. And the place was overrun most of the day.

"That's not acceptable, Emilio," I said, sighing as I looked over the proposal from the Morellis—one of the big Five Families in the city.

The Morellis usually played nice, did the right thing, didn't fight me on too much shit. To be fair, I'd been pushing them and the D'onofrio families more since the Lombardi and Esposito families were giving me as much fucking grief as possible.

I expected the Morellis to comply without fighting.

I should have known better.

We all had our own business plans. They didn't want theirs upset. I got that. I was willing to compromise to keep the peace. But I wasn't going to take scraps from them, either.

"I'll talk to Gio," Emilio said, taking the paper back. "He can reason with his old man about it. It's not like the brick-laying business is ever not in demand, not with how much white shit those investor types shovel up their noses," he said, putting the paper in his jean pocket.

"Nice belt buckle," my mother said as she breezed into the kitchen, going straight for the coffee pot.

She lived at my old penthouse, but spent just as much time in the brownstone as she did there, wanting to be close to the family she'd been kept away from for so many years.

"Thanks, I..." Emilio started, trailing off when the front door burst open, cracking against the wall it was thrown open with so much force. "What the fuck," he said, eyes widening, back straightening.

Before I could even get to my feet to see who he was looking at, my brother was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

And Santi was completely fucking covered in blood.

"I want in," he growled.

"What happened?" I asked, getting to my feet.

"I want back in, do you hear me?" he asked, practically shaking. I couldn't tell if it was rage or shock or both.

"Whose blood is that?" Emilio asked.

"I want back into this Family, Enz," he said, eyes so fierce that there was no way to deny him.

"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "You're in."