“Still can’t manage to wear a fucking tie, can you?”
Flashing him a grin, I shrug my shoulders.
“It’s in the car.”
“It belongs around your fucking neck,” he growls, shaking his head in disgust. The cocky grin fades from my face as I stare at him. This is the last time we’re going to see one another and here he is, breaking my balls.
“Oh, c’mon, Uncle Vic,” I complain. “Did you just summon me here to bust my chops?”
His lips form a thin line as he continues to silently scrutinize me. A couple of seconds pass before he sighs and crosses his arms against his chest.
Here we go.
This is the part where he reminds me I wasn’t a choice, only a last resort. An underserving heir to a kingdom.
“You might not be wearing a tie, but you still look the part, Rocco.” He cocks his head to the side. “That makes me proud.”
Shocked, I lift my chin and stare at him. You never know how much you need to hear something, until the words find your ears and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. For a long time I told myself I wanted to clean up my reputation, that I wanted to step away from the gloom lurking over me because I shared the same name as my old man, but really the only thing I ever truly wanted was to make this man proud. He’s a hard ass, that’s for sure, but when everyone else in my life turned their backs on me, he stuck. He might be my uncle on a family tree, but in my heart he’s the father I got cheated out of having raise me and fuck…I’m going to miss him.
With everything going on—all the nonstop changes—all the fucking lies, I haven’t really given myself a chance to process the fact he’s dying and I sure as fuck didn’t really give much thought to the fact this is the last time I’ll ever see him. He’s being transferred to North Carolina, to a prison where he will die alone.
No one there to hold his hand.
No one there to cry when he takes his breath.
Emotion clogs my throat and I force a swallow.
“This is it, huh?” I say hoarsely.
The fucking end of an era.
“You’re going to be fine,” he assures me.
Recalling the words he uttered when he first unleashed this plan of his, I scoff.
I want you to understand something, dear nephew… you are not a choice, you’re my last fucking resort. You are what happens when a dying man loves his children more than anything in this fucking world. You are what happens when a powerful man sacrifices everything he’s built so long after he’s gone, his daughters can live happily and without fearing the consequences of their father’s lifestyle.
“You don’t really believe that,” I argue, smoothing a hand over my face. To be fair, neither do I. Sure, I’ve been able to successfully shut down every play made on his territory thus far, but that’s been a matter of sheer luck, not skill.
Only time will tell if I’m the motherfucker pushing drug dealers off the streets and keeping them safe enough so kids can play outside until the streetlights go on. Once he’s transferred, I’ll officially take my place as the boss and then we’ll see if I can be the man who keeps Uncle Vic’s wife in her million-dollar house and his son-in-law out of harms way. We’ll know if I had guts and determination to keep the legacy alive.
Or if I continued to wing it.
Uncle Vic folds his arms on top of the table and fixes me with a look.
“I think you know me well enough to know I don’t sugarcoat anything, Rocco. You haven’t gotten yourself yet and that says something, especially since you don’t have Joaquin to fall back on.” He pauses to let out a sigh. “But it’s time for you to call him.”
My back straightens at the mention of Joaquin, but before I can question what that means, he supplies the information.
“I don’t know how much longer I have, and things aren’t going to fair well for me after the transfer.” He glances over his shoulder and looks at the guards before bringing his eyes back to me. “I got something planned, something big, and the repercussions have the power to be catastrophic.”
“Then why do whatever it is you’re planning on doing?”
“Because it has to be done.”
He goes on to tell me how the transfer has been staged by him, that he has exhausted all of his connections to get moved to a penitentiary down south—away from his family and conveniently where the number one enemy is incarcerated, killing two birds with one stone. Grace and the girls don’t have to watch him deteriorate and he can go out like the bull he is, performing one last hit.
“Once word gets out that I’m gone, things are going to get rough for you and you’re going to need to build your own crew,” he adds, pausing to cock his head. He studies me pensively. “The sooner you get Joaquin, the safer you will be.” He scratches the side of his face. “Rienzi tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time with the sister.”
I narrow my eyes at the mention of Violet. There are so many things about that last sentence that irk the shit out of me starting with the fact Rienzi is running his fucking mouth to my uncle.
“Are things serious between the two of you or—”
I cut him off.
“Serious enough that I asked her to move in with me.”
His eyebrows lift and a look of shock wears on his face.
“That’s quite the jump from the man who had a different girl for every night of the week while he was in Miami.”
I shrug my shoulders.
“What can I say? I’m a changed man, besides she had some issues at home that needed to be addressed. My first instinct was to put her up in her own place, but she’s at the house all the time and it just feels right.”
“Does Joaquin know?”
“I think he suspects something, but I haven’t come clean with him.”
“You can’t afford any problems with him right now,” Uncle Vic warns as he leans closer. “As much as I like the girl and think she might be a good fit for you, if Joaquin pushes a choice on you, you’re going to have to cut her loose.”
I open my mouth to tell argue, to tell him the only way I’m cutting Violet from my life is if she isn’t safe, but he holds up a hand to silence me.
“In the meantime, you’re going to want to put a guard on her at all times. Same goes for your sister. Have you cleared the air with her yet or are you waiting for her to a catch a bullet before you do that?”
Christ.
“Way to guilt a man,” I hiss.
“I don’t know how many times you have to be told. You still got love for your sister whether you want to admit it or not. Keep her close. If not for me, then for your mother.” He pauses to make the sign of the cross. “God rest her soul.”
I bend my head and silently make the sign of the cross too. Forget rolling in her grave, my mother would fucking haunt me if I ever let anything happen to Gina. My eyes cut back to Uncle Vic’s.
“I plan on going to pay her a visit when I get out of here.”
“Good, that’s good,” he praises, drumming his fingers against the table.
“If we’re done discussing all the woman in my life, maybe we can move to the part where you tell me what the fuck is going on. I don’t like being kept in the dark.”