I take in a deep breath and close my eyes once I hear men rushing from the door. They all stand over his body, checking for a pulse like goddamn idiots.
Enzo steps in front of them. “Capo dei capi.”
As I stand above my father’s dead body, I am taking everything.
Capo dei capi.
The Godfather.
I step over my father’s body, walking into the house I grew up in. As much as he hated my mother, pictures of her still hang on the walls. He probably only kept them there to make it seem normal.
In the kitchen, I pull out drawers, trying to find a lighter.
Once I find one, I grab all the alcohol in the cabinet and hand it to the men trailing behind me.
“Boss, are you sure?” Enzo asks, taking the lid off the bottle.
“Grab the pictures off the wall.”
He does as I say and carries them to the car as I douse the floors with my father’s favorite drink: vodka.
His men—well, my men—are looking at me like I have lost my mind, and I don’t appreciate it.
“If I were you, I’d leave the house.” My lips press into a line as I bite down on the inside of my cheek. They rush out, acting scared out of their minds, as if they didn’t see this shit coming. I bring the bottle to my lips and gulp down what feels like four shots. From the kitchen, I can see the crawlspace I sat in while I watched men murder my mother. I fight back the tears and crash the glass on the floor where she took her last breath.
“I did it,” I mumble.
The hardest part of my life was letting go of someone too early. She wastakenfrom me.
Someone who gave me the best memories became a memory herself.
I reach into my pocket, pulling out a lighter. The flame blows in the warm wind flowing into the house from the open patio doors. I look back at my father’s body as rage overflows my senses.
I drop the lighter on the puddles of liquor. The small flame blasts into a vast one, bigger than I intended, but it works out. The flames catch onto the curtains, the couch, covering everything that used to be my home as I walk outside, burning the entire place to the fucking ground.
22NINA
It’s been nearly a week since I last saw Giovanni. He left the night he gave me the birthday gift.
He got me some really good paint. It’s a small gesture, but that makes it so much better. It’s the small things in life that make the biggest impact.
Ever since Giovanni left, everyone has been on edge. Even Papa.
For some reason, they trust him with watching our family.
I know what Giovanni is capable of, but I have never seen it. I’ve only heard stories. People in my family talk about him like he lives more than one life; like he’s God.
I hear a door open, and a couple of men walk out of Papa’s office.
Whenever people walk into that room, it’s business.
Onlybusiness.
The only time I am allowed in there is when Papa asks me for something. Didn’t stop me from going in there to get his phones.
Ana and Carlo walk out with my father, and their laughter doesn’t fade. Marco walks toward the front of the house to leave.
This is the first time in a while I’ve seen multiple people walk from those doors laughing.Was Ana telling them about the phones I was looking for?