Page 72 of Fortress of the King

It’s what keeps my head in the game, it reminds me of what I’m doing all of this for, and some wishful part of me hopes my father’s looking down, seeing that I’m taking over his legacy, carrying on the family name.

Some say I’m an anti-hero, but that just makes me laugh.

I still control the drugs. I control the sex and strip clubs. I control gambling. I control who comes and goes in this city, that doesn’t sound too saintly to me.

“Are we gonna put a bullet in the back of his head or string him out?” Enzo throws back his shot and winces as he slams the glass down. I down mine, too, with the same reaction.

“I wanna play with the fucker first, wait until after the raid. I’ll decide then.”

“I hear the Royale is almost ready?” Santino nods, referring to the casino Marco will be running. “About time.”

“I’m on it with the contractors,” Marco says. “Should all be underway in the next couple of months once the fit-out and landscapers come in, it’s one hell of a job.”

“Sure is an iconic building,” Jonas comments, he’s the wild card in the family, and the reason he hasn’t had any major responsibilities in the family business just yet, organizing contractors with Marco is about the extent of it.

“You think you’re just going to be screwing around with the showgirls?” I eye Jonas and then Fynn, as he’s not much better.

Jonas’ wide eye grin tells me all I need to know.

“Women are trouble, especially the help,” Marco quips.

Enzo’s eyes flick to mine, I ignore him. Rayne is not hired help if that’s what he means. Plus, I make the fucking rules around here.

The gallery is a non-issue, it makes us money from the wealthy executives buying overpriced ridiculous pieces of art, and I have very little to do with it.

“C’mon, Angelo, showgirls get lonely too,” Jonas says, giving me a wink.

“Best keep your brother under control.” I eye Santino. “He’s too pretty for me to fuck up.”

I hear snickers around the table. Jonas, however, is entirely unperturbed as he flips me the bird.

I sit back and try not to think about Rayne and how I left her this morning; curled up in bed after I fucked her like a savage. Nothing can beat a morning like that.

At least I don’t need to keep tabs on her. Keeping track of this lot is bad enough; sometimes I feel like I’m running a freaking circus.

* * *

“Word on the street is my big brother has a hot new piece of ass,” says my sister, Valentina. She’s a five-foot-six diva-princess with a smart mouth. Being twenty-three years old, she, of course knows everything.

It can be difficult not only being the head of a family like this but keeping my sister out of trouble proves to be more of a challenge each year she gets older. It doesn’t help that she’s stunning with dark hair down to her waist, olive skin, and deep blue eyes.

She’s also a hundred miles a minute.

“Wash your mouth out, Valentina,” Ma scolds from the stove where she’s stirring the pan of meatballs and gravy.

“What I’d be asking is what you mean by ‘word on the street’?” I give her a pointed look.

I give Ma a chaste kiss on the cheek as she turns to me and says, “What’s this she’s talking about, Angelo?” Though my mom has lived in America for over forty years, she still speaks as if she just left Sicily.

Each of my brothers follow suit greeting her as well as Enzo, but she keeps her piercing eyes on me.

“Nothing, Ma, she’s stirring up trouble, like always.” I give Valentina a glare.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” she spouts with a cheesy grin.

I give her a withering look. “You talking crap about me again?” I turn towards Marco, because I know he’s the instigator in all of this.

He holds his palms up in surrender. “I haven’t said shit, just you didn’t turn up at the club the other night, so it had to be about a girl.”

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