Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Not yet. You know what we have to do.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Patience, brother.” I face Bastian. He’s five years younger than me, and although his rage matches mine, he’s reckless. If I’d left it to him, she probably would be in that grave too, but it’s too soon for pretty Vittoria Russo to die. “When we’re finished with her, she’ll join her father. But she has a purpose to serve yet.”
3
Vittoria
I can still feel his hands on me, his eyes on me. His breath along my cheek. I try to level my breathing, to count it out. If I had food in my stomach, I’m sure these men would be wearing it now. Closing my eyes, I exhale, telling myself I’m all right. If they wanted to kill me, they’d have done it.
We drive out of the cemetery and away from the city.
“Where are we going?” I ask the men although I don’t expect an answer. And I don’t get one. But about twenty minutes later, I see we’re headed toward the Amalfi Coast. It’s a beautiful drive, one my father and I followed online. One I always longed to take. But there’s nothing beautiful about this day.
“I need my purse. My phone,” I say, leaning forward to take it from the front seat but the two on either side of me stop me.
“No purse. No phone.”
“I need to call my sister. She’s only five years old. She’ll be scared. Please,” I plead although I’m not sure why I bother. It’s like talking to a stone wall. I’m not surprised. It’s how our guards are too. I’ve just never been on this end of things. Not that I’ve been very involved with the business. My father always kept me out of that side of things. My brother is the one who is heavily invested. In recent years, I’ve been the face of Russo Properties & Holdings, a company specializing in luxury hotels and residences along the East Coast of the United States. My father was looking into bringing the business to the Amalfi Coast. He was born in Naples, and his family had lived there for generations.
Although I’ve never been told outright, I know our family has always had ties to the mafia both in Italy and the States. I’m not sure how deep those ties run, but there is no denying that they’re still involved in our lives. Before I was born, my grandfather got into trouble with a mafia boss in Naples. It’s the reason he moved his family to the States, first to Philadelphia and eventually to New York City. I don’t know the circumstances of that trouble, but it must have been bad if he had to move his entire family. My father has always talked about returning someday and showing me his birthplace. Our home.
I’m not sure if my grandfather planned on keeping out of that world once in the States, but he didn’t manage to keep his nose clean. The mob was in his blood.
When Grandfather passed away a few years ago, my father began to focus on Russo Properties & Holdings. He wanted to shift the business away from the criminal world but never really could. Not with the ties our family had made. The things he’d done.
My brother, Lucien, is a different story. He likes the life and loves the power. The money. The fear his name instills. He and Dad were always at odds about this. But my father had the final say, and Lucien somehow always obeyed him.
My mind travels back to the funeral, the camera. How much did he watch? Did he allow Emma to see any of it? Please, God, make him have sent her away. She’s too young to see this side of a life she was born into. The life I want to get her out of. Because generation after generation seems to get sucked back into it.
Sadness washes over me. My father is gone. My sister is alone in a house where she is unloved and unwanted. And I am trapped here with enemies. I think about their rage. The way they handled my father’s body. Why? What had he done to them? I know my father’s hands are in no way clean, but what could he have done that would make men do what they did today?
I take a deep breath in and lean back against the seat. I have to think. They could have killed me, but they didn’t. They need me for something. And I need to remember the most important thing is that I live and get back to Emma. I’m all she has.
Almost two hours later, we turn off onto a single-lane road that will take us up to Ravello. I know the town. I know all the towns. I’ve studied so many maps of the area I could give directions. I’ve always wanted to visit the small square where Grandfather would reminisce about men gathering to drink coffee and read the paper. Where the church bells ring morning, noon, and night, and the smells of delicious cooking pour from the windows.