Top Dog

I needed Julia.

I wanted to raise our family with her.

But she was right. If we were going to do that successfully, then I had to find a way out from underneath the burden of my family’s shadows. It was no place for a six-year-old boy. And I’d never be the father Matteo would need me to be if I was gunning down people my father did dirty dealings with. I had to find a way to divest myself completely of the shady dealings he roped us into. And I would have to find a way to do it diplomatically.

I strode down the hallway and slapped a hundred-dollar bill onto the table. My tip for the man keeping his fucking mouth shut. I walked outside and felt the hot sun on my face, allowing it to drip down my body. It reminded me of her. The heat of the sun reminded me of the heat of Julia’s body. It’s warming presence reminded me of the touch of her skin against mine. I was angry. Seething with fury.

But not at Julia.

I knew she was right. She was protecting our son, and I could never be angry with that. It was her job as his mother to make sure he was safe, secure, fed, clothed, and loved. And I had no doubt she was doing that. She was a wonderful mother. I was angry at my father. Angry at him for sacrificing the state of our family to run this corrupt fucking organization. Angry at him for making me feel as if I was the only one who could take the throne as opposed to Antony sitting on it. Angry at myself for thinking that killing those gun runners for the right reasons somehow justified the fact that I’d murdered someone.

I got into my car and headed to my office. I didn’t want to go home, and I needed time to think. I parked the car and walked into the building my father had established a decade ago, and I flung the door open.

I found two of my lie

utenants standing there waiting for me.

“What?” I asked.

“We called,” James said.

“And I didn’t pick up. So the fuck what?” I asked.

“It’s important,” Donald said.

“Spit it out, then get out,” I said.

“We need to know what your next move is so we can orchestrate properly, sir,” James said.

“Next move for what?”

“For the guns.”

“There are no guns,” I said. “We didn’t need them, so someone else can have them.”

“With all due respect, sir. We did need those guns,” Donald said.

“For what?” I asked. “You’ve got one on your hip and one at your ankle. James has one around his back and two at his ankles. Why do you need more guns?”

“They aren’t for us. They’re for our arsenal.”

“And why do we need an arsenal?” I asked. “If we were doing legitimate business with the people of this city, we wouldn't have to point guns at their heads to get them to pay up.”

I tossed my jacket over my leather chair as the two men stared at me.

“Is there anything else?” I asked.

“With all due—”

“Cut the shit and the formalities. Talk to me like men. What’s the issue?” I asked.

“You’re growing soft,” James said.

My eyes panned over to the stout man as he cocked his head.

“You said to be blunt.”

“We like the way your father did business,” Donald said. “He was strong. Articulate. He knew what he wanted, and he had no issues going after it.”