Chapter One
I’vedonealotof scary shit in my lifetime.
Jumped out of an airplane. Swam with great whites. Free climbed over part of the Grand Canyon. And that doesn’t even include the amount of danger I’ve faced as head of one of the most powerful Cosa Nostra families based out of the city of Sin. I’m an adrenaline junkie at heart, and luckily, my lifestyle provides no shortage of opportunities to indulge in.
Yet, nothing prepares a man for the sheer panic he faces watching his six-year-old son teeter across a rickety, old jungle gym. The thing is a death trap. I can literally hear the screws on it rattle from here. If it had been any other day, I probably would have ignored Ty’s begging and distracted him with another activity—preferably one that wasn’t quite as heart attack inducing as this.
Today isn’t any other day, though.
Today marks exactly six months since Talia died. Six months since I lost my wife and Ty lost his mom. Six months since theunthinkable happened and our entire world was turned upside down.
Ty doesn’t understand the significance of the day, but the looming anniversary has been heavy on my mind for days. Still, when he came bounding into my room this morning asking to go to the park, I couldn’t say no. He could have asked me to book a flight to Mykonos or dye my hair every color of the rainbow, and I probably would have done it. After all he’s been through, I can’t stand to disappoint him.
“Look Dad!” he calls from the top of the climbing structure, waving his arms wildly.
My stomach lurches, but I try not to let him see me cringe. “That’s great, bud. You’re kind of high up, though. Why don’t you keep your hands on the bar, okay?”
The words sound so foreign coming out of my mouth. I never pictured myself being such an overprotective father, but things have changed drastically over the last few months.
Talia’s death wasn’t an accident, it was cold-blooded murder. I was away on business and an intruder broke into our home. In her last act on Earth, she locked Ty in our bedroom closest, shielding him from any danger as she was beaten within an inch of her life just on the other side of the door.
I can’t bring myself to imagine the things he must have heard, and the fact that I wasn’t there to protect either of them will haunt me until my dying day. Not to mention her killers are still on the loose.
You’d think as the head of a major crime organization with every imaginable resource at my fingertips, hunting them would be easy, but it’s proved to be anything but. The lack of success is driving me insane, and it consumes my every thought. Finding them and making them pay is the only tangible thing I can control, and it’s my top priority—out of both vengeance and necessity.
Ty isn’t safe while they’re still out there, and I’ll be damned before I’ll let my son get in harm’s way because of my job again.
I wipe a bead of sweat off my brow and glance up at Ty. His shoulders are already red in the blistering Las Vegas sun, and I realize I forgot to put sunscreen on him.
Damn it.
This is the kind of thing I’m not good at. I can take Ty on all kinds of adventures, teach him how to play sports, roughhouse—but it’s the day-to-day things that escape my mind. Like the fact that I need to plan twenty extra minutes to get him to school each morning just to wait in the drop-off line. Or that it isn’t a good idea to let him watch zombie movies with me because he’ll wake up with nightmares. Or where we keep the children’s Tylenol, and once I find the damn stuff, how much do I give a six-year-old?
It’s in the tiny moments that we miss Talia the most. She was an incredible mother, and she made everything run so seamlessly behind the scenes that I’m not sure I’ll ever fully recover.
Talia wasn’t the love of my life, by any means. She was a good friend, and her father worked under mine for years. Assuming my father's role demanded a wife, and Talia was the logical choice. For what she and I lacked in passion, we made up for in collaboration. We worked well together, and we got along, and that’s more than I can say for the vast majority of arranged marriages.
“Five more minutes, Ty!” I’ve probably increased his skin cancer risk enough for one day, and it’s about time for lunch.
“Do we have to?” he whines as my phone rings.
A trusted New York contact's name appears, instantly grabbing my attention. I ignore Ty’s protest and answer.
“Leo?”
“Roman, hey. Is this a good time?”
“Yeah man, what’s up?” I shove my fingers through my hair, pulse racing. The news he has could change everything, and I’m almost jittery with anticipation. Or maybe it’s just too much coffee. Either way, I stand, pacing a few yards away from the playground.
“I’m not positive about any of this, so I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but we might have a lead. I met with a supplier yesterday who spent some time out West. He was in Vegas a few months ago working with Los Chavos, a new group in La Eme, and some young kid was running his mouth about a job they did.”
La Eme? A Mexican Mafia hit? That doesn’t seem right.
“Our supplier was asking me about it because the kid mentioned that they went after an Italian Mafia Don. Thought we might have some inside information.”
“You think I’m dealing with a street gang?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to make of it. The only reason I’m calling you about it is that they had specific details that weren’t made public. Like that you were out of town. And that your son was there, specifically locked in the closet.”
