4. Angelo

Chapter 4

Angelo

H ome felt like heaven for about a day.

But it became clear how much has changed, and I don't feel like I understand my place in everything anymore.

Dad and Mom are mostly holed up in their house. Dad rarely comes outside anymore and I only saw him once, very briefly, before he retreated into his lair again. I'm aware of what happened with him and Santoro, the whole, ugly story, and I don't hold that shit against him. People love who they love, and Dad chose Mom back then. So what if he had an affair with a guy? My only issue is that he held onto that relationship for far too long to the detriment of the whole Famiglia and he nearly let it ruin all our lives. But it's over now. Santoro's dead, and we're all trying to move on from the shock.

Meanwhile, Simon's in charge, and he's got a new little baby boy named Jeremy. He's the first grandkid and everyone's making a real big deal about him. Davide and his wife are fucking disgustingly adorable, which is bizarre—I never knew the big guy was capable of those kinds of feelings. Then there's Elena and Brody. She doesn't even live in the oasis anymore after marrying the head of the Irish mob, which feels bizarre. I don't know Brody yet, but Elena promises he's a good guy, and I have to believe her.

Which leaves Laura. My youngest sister. And the only person who seems like she's exactly the same as I left her.

"Get out of my house, Angelo." Laura glares at me from behind her kitchen island.

I ignore her and look around. The place is almost unchanged. Art covers the walls, hanging on almost every surface, and her style of furniture trends toward second-hand chic. Little statues line the shelves, and there are a few sculptures in varying states of work scattered around.

Leave it to my weirdo little sister to hold down the fort for me.

"Don't be like that." I head over to the back door and peer into the yard. "Are those your hands?"

"They got shot."

I laugh and open the door. Sure enough, half the hands have bullet holes in them. Laura painted blood around most of them and crafted bones and sinew where pieces chipped off.

"That was during the attack?" I ask as she joins me.

"Not the best time," she says with a tight frown. "Everyone was a mess after."

"How about you? Were you okay?"

"Oh, I had a blast."

I genuinely can't tell if she's kidding. Instead of trying to parse her humor, I head back to the island and take a seat on a stool. She reluctantly makes us both some coffee and I smile to myself.

My little sister's always been reclusive. Even before her accident, she kept to herself, but it only got worse afterward. I'm the only person in our whole family she ever let into her house for more than a few minutes, and for the first time since I got out of prison, I feel like it's the old days.

"Tell me straight. What are things like these days with Simon leading the Famiglia?"

Laura shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. "He's fine. Leaves me alone."

"Quit pretending like you're not totally plugged in. It's me, Laur. Give me the details."

She hesitates. Then a little smile cracks her stony glare.

Because no matter how strange my sister acts, no matter how hard she likes to pretend that she's not interested in the world outside of her house and her cuckoo little art projects, she's deeply obsessed with the Famiglia.

Which is how I learn all about Simon's projects post-Santoro, about Davide's businesses, about Elena and Brody's buildings on the waterfront, about the gossip with the capos and the guards and the soldiers, about everything I need to know that nobody else would tell me.

"Elena says you killed a guy in the first half hour after you got out of jail." Laura studies me with her head tilted to the side like a predatory bird. "Why'd you do it?"

"I wanted to send everyone a message." I finish my coffee and get up. "I've got a lot of unfinished business I need to get wrapped before my life can actually start back up. Paulie was just the start."

"You're on a revenge tour, huh?"

She follows me to the front door.

"Something like that," I admit.

"Don't let it consume you."

"Says the girl that spends all her time creeping around the oasis."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm serious. It was five years ago."

My fingers dig into the doorjamb and I glance back at her. Our eyes meet, and her face tenses at the look I'm giving her. "They took five years from me," I say very softly. "And now Tommy's running my fucking club. I can't move on until I know they've all been punished for what happened."

Laura studies me with that strange, scrutinizing stare, until she finally nods. "Good luck then. I'll let you know what I hear."

"That's why you're my favorite sibling." If she were anyone else, I'd hug her, but that's not Laura's style. Instead, I leave her alone and walk off, which is about the nicest thing I can do.

Everyone looks at my little sister and sees a strange girl that just wants to be left alone. But I know better. She desperately wishes she could be a part of the Famiglia, only she struggles with her issues, with her nightmares, and can't seem to get out of her own head. Maybe one day I'll find a way to help her.

For now, I have a meeting with Simon.

My brother's the Don of the Famiglia. He's the oldest sibling and was born to take over after my father inevitably retired. His office is in the main administrative building on the oasis, the single city block in the middle of Chicago that's only accessible from one direction and is completely owned and controlled by the Famiglia. Every building, every house, every inch of sidewalk is completely ours, and it's the safest place in the whole damn world.

Simon ushers me into his office. It looks so much like the way Dad had it back in the day except with different pictures on the bookshelves. I smile at one that shows all the siblings: I'm standing with my shirt off, grinning like a maniac, no older than sixteen, my arm draped around a glaring and unhappy Davide on one side and a smirking Simon on the other. Elena's in the middle, hands on her hips, chin up in the air, while Laura's lurking off to the side.

"Where was this taken?" I ask, genuinely not sure.

"Remember that lake we used to go to as kids?" Simon looks over my shoulder and his expression softens. "It was down there. I think we were only ever all together for one single summer before Dad started breaking us up and sending us to different camps."

I remember those guys. I swear, our old man took any chance to torture us. I put the picture down and sit in the chair across from Simon's desk while he settles himself and stretches his back.

"I wanted to discuss how you're going to fit back into the family business," Simon says, studying me with his arms crossed over his chest. "But first, I need you to hear this." He leans forward. "No more revenge shit."

My eyebrows raise. "I don't know what you could possibly mean."

"Don't joke around. I know what you did to Paulie and while I don't give a shit that loser's dead, I don't want you to get locked up again for some dumb cowboy fantasy. Let it go, Angelo. It's done and buried."

I sit back and lapse into silence. I'm not going to lie to my brother and say the matter's dropped, but I'm not going to argue with him, either. Instead, we sit in the tension for almost twenty seconds, before he finally gives in and sighs.

"If you're going to be like that, we'd better discuss your role in the Famiglia moving forward."

"I want my old territory and my club back. From there, I figure I'll rebuild my crew, vet some new guys, and get to work."

Simon doesn't look happy. "The territory's been broken up and I'm not sure you can have much of it back. We'll find you some turf, but for now, you're going to work with Davide. And as for the club?—"

"It's my fucking club." I lean toward him, trying not to show him my teeth. "I want it back."

"Tommy's been doing a good job." Simon's stare is hard. I bet this conversation would be going differently if I had agreed to drop the revenge stuff. "Cage is one of our better earning properties and I really don't want to mess with that."

"Tommy's a fucking idiot. You know that prick has absolutely dick for brains. I don't know how he got lucky, but sooner or later he's going to burn that place down."

Simon tilts his head sideways. "Maybe you're right, but from my perspective, you've been locked up for five years and need some time to acclimate to how things are now, while Tommy proved himself over and over again. I'm not saying you can't have it back eventually, but I'm saying you can't have it back right now."

I expected this but it still pisses me off. I take a beat to calm myself down. Raging at my brother isn't going to help anything, and technically speaking, he's my Don and his word is the law. Even if I don't agree.

"That's how it's going to be, huh? I go to prison, I do my time and don't say a damn word, and when I come back everything's gone."

"We're easing you back in. Come on, Angelo, you know I trust you, but the world changed. I can't help that."

"I know it did." I get to my feet. If I sit here a second longer and look at my smug older brother's face, I might do something stupid. "And it left me the fuck behind."