Cosa Nostra: A Steamy Mafia Romance (Kids of The District Book 3), Nicci Harris [read a book txt] 📗

"Oh." I swallow hard before focusing on the woman who raised my brother until he was four. Until he was taken from her. Only for her to die a few years after. . .

Perhaps she died of a broken heart.

I shield my lower belly with my palm, heat hitting the back of my eyes. He looks so much like her. As I study the image, I remember the night my father told us that he was friends with her in high school. Told us that he loved her. Told us some of the District's secrets. About the Mafia. About Jimmy. Max. The conversation still sits heavily in my stomach.

"She's pretty," I say.

Despite needing to visit my father before Carter takes me home, the pull of my brother's discomfort keeps me rooted to the edge of his bed. I put my hand on his tanned one. "What's going on, Konnor?"

He twists to face me, dropping his gaze to where my hand spans my stomach. "You're going to be a mother."

I blink at him and take a deep breath in before folding my hands in my lap. "Yeah."

Locking his jaw, he speaks through a slow shake of his head. "I was fucking furious when I found out he'd knocked you up, Cass. I'm not gonna lie. I was on the verge of driving all the way here and choking him with my bare hands.

"Blesk stopped me, of course. She wouldn't let me call you either. I had the phone in my fist and was ready to, but. . . She settled me down. And then, a few days after that, I got thinking about my mother. And how I'll never know her. And. . ." He sighs, eyes deep with emotion. "I don't know. Now I'm a little jealous. I just wish I had someone in my life, anyone, who shares my blood with me. Someone I can spot similarities in. Sorry." He nods as a genuine but sad smile touches his mouth. "You're going to be an amazing mother."

The backs of my eyes begin to prickle. "You don't need to share my blood. You know this. You're my brother, and you're his uncle."

His blond-brown eyebrows rise. "His?"

"Well, according to Max's dad, there hasn't been a female-born Butcher in over three generations, so I just call him a boy. He probably will be."

Konnor groans as he all but spits out the word, "Butcher". He curls his nose up. Thrusting his hands through his hair, he then pulls them back down his face. "Can't he be a Slater?"

I glance around dubiously before fixing him with an apologetic smile. "No, Konnor. He can't."

Before he can reply, my phone vibrates. Konnor nods at me to take it, so I pull it out of my pocket.

Carter: I have to get you home soon.

Frowning at the screen, I text back a reply.

Cassidy: Why?

Carter: Max.

One word that somehow delivers an entire explanation.

Cassidy: Ten minutes.

"Fuck, he's a controlling prick. Tell him you're with your family," Konnor snaps, glowering down at my phone.

I bite my lip and blacken the screen. "He worries, that's all. Sorry, big brother, I have to go. I love you." I cuddle him quickly and then wander from his room.

At the end of the corridor, I tap my knuckles softly on Dad's office door.

Before I can announce myself, I hear his gentlemanly voice say, "Come in."

Pushing open the door, I step inside, my arms opening wide. "Guess who?"

He jumps to his feet and rounds his desk, moving quickly to scoop me up into a tight embrace. "I've missed you." He pushes me out in front of him as he eyes me thoroughly. "How do you feel? I've wanted to be nosy and visit, but I was trying to pretend that I understand you're a grown woman and that I don't need my little girl anymore."

"Don't you mean, that I'm a grown woman who doesn't need her dad anymore?"

"No. I meant what I said."

I giggle a little at that. "I will always need my dad."

"Good," he states, gesturing to a seat. "Sit. To what do I owe the pleasure of my favourite person?"

Walking over to the spot opposite his desk while he moves back to his chair, I mull over how to delicately have this conversation. Resting my hands in my lap, I smile at him and inhale a breath of courage.

Mafioso.

When that word taunts me again, I decide to just get it all out. All my questions. Show all my cards.

"I want to ask you what you know about Max's family. About the Mafia. About Jimmy Storm. I want to know how to ignore what you know. . . about them. Because I've seen things. And I'm wresting to keep my concerns suppressed. I'll never let go of Max. No matter what you say or what I see." I pause for a moment, always having known those words to be true but never having said them aloud before. Clearing my throat, I continue, "I just. . . want to know how you handle it."

He stands up slowly and then heads straight for his cabinet, pulling out a bottle of scotch. He pours himself a drink before making his way back to his seat. Instead of drinking it, he entwines his fingers in front of him. "What have you seen, Cassidy?"

A man die at my own hands.

A woman looking at my boyfriend with true fear.

Blood and bruises and secrets so terrifying I don't even ask for them to be shared with me, afraid of what I may hear and the apathy attached to the way I may hear it.

I drop my gaze to my fingers and pick at my nail polish.

"He is not a bad man," my dad says. He nods as if convincing himself too. "I wouldn’t call him a good man either, but I'm not sure there is such a creature. . . Women are good. Men are. . . apes