Page 1 of Bruno
Prologue
“You ungrateful bastard. Are you hijacking me? Do you really think you’re ready to wear my crown?” Salvatore Falcone’s voice held the warmth of an icicle, but his eyes jumped nervously around the room. Landing on each of my brothers before they all turned to me. Beneath his tundra expression and his ticking jaw, I read the fear in his eyes. The problem with honing your sons into lethal blades is that they might stab you in the back—or the front. I faced him across the desk that he used to command.
If his tone was a frosty shake, mine was cocoa-warm. No muscle ticked in my jaw, and my words slid from smiling lips. A trick the old bastard taught me. Never let your enemies glimpse your feelings. After years of working by his side, building this family from the ruins the Buonapartes left us in, were we now enemies? No. I kicked that thought from the Devil away.
“Father, I mean no disrespect.”
“The hell you don’t.” He sneered, but I didn’t wince. Salvatore Sr. was a pugnacious goon who never wasted a word or spared a feeling in his life. Certainly, he didn’t pull his punches with his children. And I wouldn’t hold back for him either. All I had to do was wait him out. Let his anger spew over, and then I’d take what was mine. The title he no longer deserved to own. The Don.
I’m amazed that I caught him off guard—surprised him. He made me give up everything and everyone I loved to be his successor. His only miscalculation was assuming I’d take over post-mortem.
When his reddened cheeks lost their wind, I flicked off the filth he’d spat at me and continued. “This is the way of this life. You built a legacy, and now it will continue.” I tapped the platinum-coated Meisterstück ink pen he’d gifted me and focused on the drumming to avoid rubbing my temples. “Look, this thing with the Verrazanos is going to cost us. You miscalculated. We all love Valeria, but I warned you that marrying the Silvio girl would bring a shitload of trouble. The Silvios took out three of our men.” I didn’t look back when Carlo hissed. He still resented having to stand down on my father’s orders. “So now we’re in bed, literally, with a family that half of our men want to commit mutiny over. They don’t care about the bride we gained. They want a life for a life. We could have withstood that storm, but then the Verrazano family kidnapped Carlo’s daughter. We cannot ignore the insult. Too many eyes are watching us. Ready to swoop in and take everything we established—putting us all in danger.”
“Do you regret my decision, Carlo?” My father’s dark eyes, nearly identical to mine, excavated my brother. “Are your wife and new daughter so unbearable that I deserve punishment?”
“No one regrets what we gained.” I grind out, sparing my brother and taking the heat of the question. “But it’s time to account for what we lost. The Verrazanos started it, and we must finish it.” I stood up and walked to his side. Kneeling before him and taking his gnarled fist in the ultimate show of respect. I can’t give him love. He never gave it, nor asked for it. Love came from my mother, the woman he cheated on and ignored.
Instead, I squeeze his hand and offer. “You will always be my don. I value your opinion and your experience. You’re a wise man, and I’ll need your wisdom to guide me. You’re not out. We’re only changing places. I’m asking you to stand by my side as I’ve stood by yours. We’re family, always.”
His cold eyes pierce me. His next words will determine our fates and futures. My brothers are the only witnesses to this moment. Seconds tick by, but he doesn’t stop probing me, and I don’t blink.
“A don kneels for no one.” His gruff voice gives me his crown.
I nod and stand, and he does the same. We face each other, and a lifetime of missed opportunities and connections pass between us before he speaks again. Offering his hand, he says in his native Italian. “I give you all I have.”
“I’ll give it all I have. I swear.”
Dons have exchanged this vow for hundreds of years. It’s rare to have a peaceful transition of power, but when it happens, it’s usually between father and son. I tilt my head again in respect. And return to my chair. It’s time for business.
“Alla faccia di chi ci vuole male.”
My brothers raised a glass at the toast. All of us smiling when father joined in, the Falcone family was ours. I pressed a buzzer and told Laura to send in my guest. The smiles continued when Marco Czak entered. Marco and I started out busting balls and kicking assess when I was just Sal Jr. and still working my way to the top. Taking the dirty jobs no one wanted. Earning the respect of the men I would lead. He witnessed my change from Sal Jr to Brutale and eventually Bruno for short.
The violence I delivered had been over the top, even if they’d deserved it. Few people knew where the anger sprung from. I would transform from a simmering annoyance to a boiling inferno as easily as Bruce Banner turning into the raging Hulk in my favorite childhood comic book. Several times, I pictured myself as more rampaging monster than human. All it took was picturing my cancer-ridden mother killed in a car accident during transport for her last treatment. She’d fought so hard. Would she have survived? Did my father, who wanted her gone, have anything to do with the freak accident? Convenient coincidence? It certainly worked out for him and the mistress he flaunted in our faces.
All that fury and outrage was nothing—nothing compared to the wrath I rained down when I thought of… her. Leaving her turned me into a snarling, bloody-clawed ogre. A rabid wolf in need of putting down. When I’d come out of my rage, I’d wince at the havoc I’d wrecked. So for sixteen years, I’d buried all thoughts of her under boulders and stone and left her care and protection to the only man, other than my brothers, that I trusted…
Marco delivered the news of her discovery two days ago. The Verrazanos had discovered her existence and put out a hit on my father, my brothers, myself, Attia Wilson, and our son Christopher. Now, I trusted her safety to no one. The beast shredded my suit of civility and demanded blood. I restrained him only long enough to oust my father, who caused this shit and set my plans for retaliation in motion.
Nobody was going to fuck with my woman and child and fucking live. I would bring down fucking heaven to bury them in fucking hell. With one decision, Verrazano signed the death warrant of everyone he cared about.
Every. Fucking. One.
2nd prologue
“Chris, how was school today?” I ask the same question I’ve asked since kindergarten. Only now, I’ve dropped thesweetiesandhoneysthat used to go with it. God forbid I add a kiss. We sit at the kitchen table, the remains of our spaghetti dinner and his teenage grumpiness between us.
He shrugs nonchalantly, twirling his fork. “Same old, same old. Teachers droning on about nothing, students sleeping—the usual.”
I swallow down my impatience. Suck it up. I’m the mom of a teen, and as he said, this is the same old, same old. Where did my sweet child go? The one who would race in the door with words running faster than his feet. I would have to tell him to slow down so I could keep up. I have no trouble keeping up with his one-word replies now. A sentence is like a treasured essay. I know this, but I still persist.“Didn’t you have a math test today? How’d that go?”
“Passed it. Probably.” He says flatly, but there’s a slight furrow in his brow that tells me he’s not quite as confident as he sounds. Chris has always been too smart for his own good, sometimes to the point where he doesn’t realize he needs to study.
“Probably isn’t good enough. You know you can ask me if you need help, right? I loved math.” My words earn me an eye roll.
“That’s because you’re weird,” he grins. Giving me his first smile of the day while standing to take his plate to the sink. “But maybeyouneed help. You really need to get out more. Get a life outside of work and home.”
“Ouch,” I return his grin and place a hand over my heart. “That didn’t hurt, not at all.”
