Page 83 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

He'd left twelve hours and seventeen minutes ago. 737 minutes ago. I wondered if this was what the wives of soldiers had felt when they’d sent their husbands off to war. Had they hugged them tight, hoping for the best while knowing another hug may never come? Had they committed every second of that moment to memory, knowing it might have to last them a lifetime?

He’d been honest with me, but now I almost wished he hadn’t been. I almost wished I was blissfully unaware of the danger he faced this very moment. Almost. But we’d forged something together that had no room for lies, no matter how well-intentioned they might have been.

I padded down the stairs to the kitchen, not really hungry, but the four walls of our bedroom were starting to close in on me. Therewas no point in me trying to sleep. There was a vise around my heart, and I knew it wouldn’t ease until Dominic was safe at home.

When I got to the kitchen and turned on the light, I nearly screamed. Vincent stood by the kettle, stirring something in a cup. I didn’t want to bother him, and quite frankly, he intimidated me, so I turned around to leave.

“Fallon,” he said. “Don’t run away. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I just made some tea.”

“Sorry… I don’t want to get in your way,” I said, standing there awkwardly.

He was wearing pajama pants, the kind that grandpas wore. No shirt. Beneath the light sprinkling of graying hair across his chest, his muscles were toned. The man was in incredible shape, just like Maria.

“You’re not in the way, Fallon. Would you like a cup of tea?” Vincent offered.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

He tilted his head at me. “Are you okay?”

It was almost surreal—this terrifying man offering me tea and asking if I was okay.

I shrugged. “I’m just worried about Dominic.”

He chuckled, not unkindly, and set his teacup down. “Come with me.”

I followed Vincent like a lost puppy. He led me to what they called the war room, which felt uncanny because it was so empty. Usually, it was teeming with people. In their absence, the room felt empty. Lonely.

“Sit,” Vincent said. He pointed at a seat next to the head of the table.

He went for a shelf up against the wall and reached up high to grab a bottle of whiskey from the top. He brought it back, wiped off the dust, and set it down on the table along with two crystal whiskey tumblers.

“This whiskey’s fifty years old. I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” he said. “I never did get to congratulate you on the wedding.”

He filled each glass halfway with the golden liquid.

“Oh, Mr. Luca, you shouldn’t have wasted this on me.”

He waved away my concern. “I have an eighty-year-old whiskey; that one’s for a great tragedy. And whiskies I bought each day my children were born, too. It’s nothing, really,” Vincent said.

He took a sip, savoring the flavor before swallowing. I followed soon after, and we savored the smooth, warm taste in silence.

“I never told you why I didn’t walk you down the aisle,” he said after a moment.

I shook my head as I took another sip, and my arms and legs began to tingle pleasantly.

“I wanted to, Fallon. No young woman should ever have to walk down the aisle alone. But I couldn’t do it. All I could picture was walking my Sofia down the aisle—a privilege I will never have. I will never walk my little girl down the aisle.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Luca,” I said, though the words felt too small. Dominic had mentioned a little sister in passing once.

“Please, call me Vincent,” he said.

This was the longest we had spent alone together. It felt weird, but not nearly as uncomfortable as I would have expected. He smiled when I finished the first two fingers of whiskey and immediately topped me up.

“He’ll come back triumphant, Fallon. He’s my son, and I can tell that my boy cares for you. He loves you. He wouldn’t lose this battle because he wouldn’t want to leave you.”

I smiled, wishing I had his kind of confidence that everything would be okay and wondering at the same time how he managed it.

“Well.” He patted my hand. “Maria will be waiting up for me.” He rose to his feet. “She never could sleep all those nights I was gone either,” he said, smiling with a knowing look in his eyes. “My son is a lucky man, Fallon. Don’t think I’m not grateful for that.”

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