Page 102 of When She Falls (The Fallen)
If he’s in Messero’s inner circle, he would know this with certainty. He must not be that high up.
“I am.”
He adjusts his stance, visibly tense. “Congratulations.”
“You’re with Messero?”
He nods.
“When did you land with his crew?”
“A few years ago.”
“Oh yeah? They treating you well?”
“Fine.” He sniffs. “So what brings you here?”
“I’m Garzolo’s guest. We’re family now, haven’t you heard? Damiano, the new don, married one of Garzolo’s daughters.”
Some tension leaves Nunzio’s shoulders. Is he relieved I didn’t come all the way to New York for him? Maybe he thinks I’m unlikely to do anything that might jeopardize the relationship between Garzolo and Messero.
I’ll admit, killing him right now wouldn’t look good, but that doesn’t mean I’m not tempted.
He swipes his fist under this nose and shoots me an insolent look. “So you became a ras after all. I have to admit, I thought as Ras of the Casalesi, you’d have more important things to do than visit family abroad.”
I smirk. He can’t keep up his polite act around me for more than a minute.
Good. Let’s cut the shit. “And what do you do for Messero? Pull things off the back of a truck? Harass small mom-and-pop stores for protection money? How does it feel, Nunzio, to do all the same things you used to revile my family for doing?”
Revulsion flashes across his face before he masks it with a cold smirk. “I’ll do whatever I have to in order for my family to have a better life here than they did back in Napoli. I know that must be hard for you to understand. You’ve never cared about anyone as much as you care about yourself. I’m surprised Don De Rossi has put his trust in you. If he knew you like I do, he’d realize it’s only a matter of time before you screw him for your own gain.”
His words make me bristle with indignation. He’s wrong. I may have been selfish when Nunzio knew me, but I’ve changed. Back then, I was just a fucking kid who felt like he’d already disappointed everyone, so what was the point of trying? But I’m not that kid anymore.
I promised myself I’d never disappoint Dem, and I haven’t.
“People change, Nunzio.”
Across the room, a flash of yellow catches my gaze.
It’s Gemma. I watch her as she walks up to Rafaele. She offers him her hand, and he presses his lips to it. I make the mistake of watching their interaction for a second too long, and Nunzio notices.
He chuckles. “Cazzo. You should see your face just now. Subtlety was never your strong suit. That’s Messero’s fiancé, Gemma Garzolo, right? You’re staying with them on your visit. Let me guess, you spent a few days watching her prance around the house, and now you want her.”
I keep a flat expression, even as a heavy weight materializes inside my gut. If Dem knew what I’ve done already with Gemma…
Nunzio smirks. “But you can’t have her. My, my, how history repeats itself. Tell me…” He leans in close to my ear. “Have you ever gotten a single thing you’ve truly wanted? Or do they all slip through your fingers the way Sara did?”
The rage that sweeps through me is so potent I barely realize what I’m doing. I grab him by the scruff of his shirt and swiftly push him through a nearby door that turns out to lead to a small, empty parlor.
He claws at my arm, trying to get my fingers off his neck, but my grip may as well be made of stone.
His face turns red.
His eyes start to bulge.
When his eyelids begin to droop, the distorted voice in my head suddenly becomes clear.
Let go of him.
