He branded that into me from birth, and I refused to show any now.
“Blood for blood,” my father gasped as he took his last breath.
I knew what he meant.
Surveying the damage, I said nothing as armed men surrounded the carnage. Yet, I knew they were there to protect me, not my dead father.
He was already gone.
I was not.
I was now in charge.
For them, I was now the boss.
The head of the Valentinetti family and would remain so until my death.
My Family ran Chicago.
Now, the city was mine.
All of it.
“Boss?” Angelo Demarco, my personal bodyguard, whispered cautiously to me. Angelo took his job personally and never let anything get in his way. He was loyal to a fault and deadly when the mood suited him, and lately, it served him more than I would have liked. I really didn’t know much about where Angelo came from. He was quiet and chose not to talk about his past. I respected that, for I was the same. No longer the guard to the King’s son, he was now the guard to the King.
He was Family to me.
More than blood.
He was my brother in every aspect of the word.
“Signor Alfonzo Riggati has arrived, with Vincenzo Gotti. They have asked to pay their respects.”
“Later.”
One word. That was it, and Angelo knew not to argue.
Today was about my Family.
Nothing else.
I wanted to bury my father.
Talk would wait.
“Gio,” Salvatore spoke, interrupting my grief. He should have been paying attention to the priest, not speaking to me.
“What?”
“Want me to handle them?”
That was Sal. So eager to please and bloodthirsty. Sal made a name for himself in Vegas at thirty-one, where he owned and operated the most private gentlemen’s club on the strip. He ran his club like he did everything in his life, with determination and control. Nothing happened with Salvatore unless he allowed it.
Grinding my teeth, I seethed. “I want you to listen to the priest and show some respect.”
“We can’t just ignore them.” Sal challenged.
I turned to look at my brother, fury emanating from me. “We?”