CHAPTER 1
“What the fuck are we doing here, Marco?” Tristan couldn’t believe he was sitting in this car like a low-level foot soldier. His cousin never failed to go running behind the newest shiny object. The fact that he’d convinced him to come along for the ride this time not only pissed him off, but it also made him wonder why he still felt the need to protect him.
Marco looked over at him with a glint in his eyes. “I told you,” he snapped. “This motherfucker disrespected me. You know I can’t let that shit go. Fuckingmulignan,” he spat. “I just want to see what he’s up to. Find out who he spends his time with.”
Sighing, Tristan shook his head. “We’re not some half-ass lackeys, Marco. This is bullshit. You have me out here sitting in a car like a dumbass. You said you needed my help. I have other shit to do. Which you already know.” Looking down at his phone, he responded to a message from one of his boys. That done, he lifted his eyes back to his cousin. “Make this shit fast, man. I got somewhere to be.”
Silence filled the car as Marco stared across the street at something, or someone. His lips curled in a snarl, and his breathing became loud, as if he were running. Or hyperventilating with fear. Either way, his cousin seemed to be losing it, which made Tristan wary.
This is the type of bullshit he didn’t want to deal with anymore.
Over the years, he’d taken the steps necessary to build something outside of the family business. He needed other drivers in his life that didn’t include continually looking over his shoulder. Murder and mayhem were all good, but not when he just wanted some fucking peace.
His whole fucking life had been driven by the whims of others. Even as a small child, his life had not been his own. Truthfully, from the time he came screaming and kicking into this world, his future had been laid out for him. Until fate stepped in, sending him in another direction.
His parents died when he was just seven years old. Snatched from him without a second thought. All because someone wanted to prove they had the balls to do it. They hadn’t cared about the little boy waiting for his parents to return home from a night out. Their only focus has been snuffing out their lives in the bloodiest way possible.
At that age, he knew nothing aboutLa Cosa Nostra, the family business, or theMafioso. Those lessons came quickly, though. Roberto Lucarelli, his uncle, raised him to be the type of man he thought was best.
Whether or not Tristan’s father would have wanted it that way, no one knew. But his uncle is a good man and a fair one. It wasn’t his way to try to replace Savio Lucarelli, Tristan’s father, and he’d never tried.
Over the years, his uncle had given him a family, gave him a second home, a place to lay his head down at night. People who loved him the best they could, and who kept the memory of his parents alive. For that, he would always love his uncle and his wife, Sofia.
When the nightmares came, his aunt Sofia would come to his room to hold him tight, whispering soft words as tears fell down his face, comforting him the only way she could, as a mother. She’d tell him stories about his parents in their younger years. They’d all known each other since they were teenagers, so there were plenty of tales to tell.
There were times he could feel the tears fall from her face and onto his skin, wetting his pajamas. He never mentioned it though, because he knew she was trying to hide it from him. They were like that.
To the world, they were ruthless. Capable of taking the life of another without a second thought.
Behind closed doors, with their family, there was nothing but support. Even when he or Marco fucked up. There was nothing his family wouldn’t do for him, and he felt the exact same way. Which is why he sat in a fucking car on a Saturday afternoon while his cousin seethed. Shaking his head, he knew whatever this was, would not end well.
“Who the fuck are you looking at?” he demanded.
“A dead man,” Marco growled.
Tristan glanced at his watch, noting the time. “You have exactly two minutes or else I’m calling Orlando to come and pick me up. You know me better than this. Don’t fuck with my time, Marco.”
His cousin’s gaze shot his way. “You still think you’re too fucking good for us.”
An old argument they’d been having since their teen years. Tristan had been done with this shit years ago. Now, at thirty-four years old, Tristan was fed up with his cousin’s bullshit. That Marco continued to bring it up only pissed him off even more. He loved his cousin, but the man had a huge fucking flaw.
Jealousy.
From the day they turned sixteen, Uncle Roberto had groomed them both to take over the business when he retired. Over the years, it became apparent that he favored Tristan over Marco.
Tristan hadn’t wanted the role more than his cousin. It was what his uncle decided.
Then again, Marco never understood the power that came with the role.
Being head of the family was about more than how many people you were willing to kill. There were lives, families, and businesses at stake. Every decision would come with a price. Sometimes the price was higher than expected. It didn’t matter though. In the end, there’s always a price to the paid, and the devil always got his due.
There were three families in the Boston and Providence area, and each of them held a stake in the legitimate, and underworld businesses.
Not only that, but there were outside relationships that had to be fostered. The O’Shea’s were one of them. A couple years ago, the O’Shea brothers and the Lucarelli’s had a falling out. Some shit had gone south, and Marco had been at the center of the shit storm. It had taken every negotiating tactic he had to calm shit down.
Conall O’Shea, a businessman and the most level-headed brother in Tristan’s opinion, agreed to a sit-down. Conall’s only caveat was that Marco not attend or have any say in the final resolution. It had been easy enough to get arranged. His uncle Roberto had no problem with Tristan leading the discussions.
There’d been no other way. The O’Shea’s ran Boston. The Lucarelli’s ran Providence. If he hadn’t cleaned shit up, it could have started a war. He’d had no other choice, yet his cousin hadn’t seen it that way.