Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“That’s very good.” Dad gives me a proud smile. “And Paradiso?”
“Everything is running smoothly at the club.”
Dad is very sentimental about Paradiso as it played a role in him and Mom getting together. I was sixteen when they told me how Dad tricked Mom into falling in love with him. I still hear her call him her mystery man at times.
Mom comes into the living room with a tray, and once we’re all sitting with a mug of coffee, I ask, “So what’s next, now that the wedding is done and over with?”
Mom grins at Dad before looking at me. “We’re going to Seattle to visit your grandparents.”
It will do Mom good to see her parents again. It’s been a while.
“How long do you plan to stay in Seattle?” I ask.
Mom shrugs, giving Dad a questioning look. “A month?”
Dad nods. “Yeah. A month is good.”
I glance between my parents. “When are you leaving?”
“Thursday. There are a few things I need to take care of before we can go,” Mom answers.
I enjoy some of the coffee before I say, “Just let me know when you land safely in Seattle and check in with me every day.”
Mom rolls her eyes at me. “Of course.” She gives me a loving look. “When are you taking a break?”
I shake my head as I set the empty mug down on the coffee table that’s situated between the couches. “Not soon. Work is too busy.” I climb to my feet and walk the short distance to them. Leaning down, I press a kiss to Mom’s forehead before shaking Dad’s hand. “I have to run, but I’ll see you before you leave for your trip.”
“Be safe out there,” Dad says.
When I exit the house through the sliding doors, I signal to Lorenzo and Raffaele that we’re leaving. I grew up with both men, as their fathers worked closely with Dad until they retired, which means I trust them with my life.
Currently, Raffaele is standing in as my underboss until Riccardo returns from his honeymoon. I haven’t told my brother yet, but he’s taking over as my second-in-command. It’s time for him to start learning the family business.
Lorenzo is my personal guard, and I don’t go anywhere without him. His father, Milo, named him after a close friend who died taking a bullet for him while they were protecting Dad.
There’s so much history between my men and me that I’ll never question their loyalty to the Vitale family or the Cosa Nostra.
When we climb into the G-Wagon, Raffaele asks, “Where to, boss?”
“Paradiso, then Vitale Health, then the warehouse.”
“You know it’s Sunday,” Lorenzo grumbles.
I glance at him where he’s sitting in the passenger seat while Raffaele is behind the steering wheel. “Your point being?”
“Some people rest on Sundays,” he says. “Especially after attending a wedding that only ended in the early hours of the morning.”
“Are you telling me you’re tired?” I ask, my tone playful.
He scowls at me from over his shoulder. “Aren’t you?”
“No,” I reply, even though it’s a lie. Lorenzo slumps back into his seat, not looking happy. I let out a chuckle as I say, “We’ll be quick so you can get your lazy ass home.”
“Hungover,” he corrects me. “There’s a difference.”
“Next time you won’t drink so much,” Raffaele says.
Lorenzo raises his eyebrows. “You drank more than me.”
“Yeah, but I can handle it, unlike you.”
I listen to two men ribbing each other as we drive toward the club.
Honestly, I’m exhausted and could do with a nap, but there’s no time.
Riccardo better enjoy Japan for the both of us.
Chapter 3
Yuki
The past week went by way too fast. I spent all my time making two beautiful clay pots and catching up on some of my TV shows. It was heavenly.
Letting out a sigh, I feel miserable as I’m driven to Molecule, one of the best clubs in Tokyo, that’s partially owned by the Yakuza. It’s where all the trust-fund babies and rich people prefer to hang out.
When the car stops right by the entrance, Kentaro gets out from the front to open my door, and I exhale heavily as I climb out.
I’m dressed in a Balenciaga sweater and sweatpants that flare wide at my feet, the clothes very bulky. It’s already second-nature to walk like a man, my steps wide while I roll my shoulders, giving other people the impression I don’t give a fuck about anything.
I hear a woman gasp and whisper, “That’s Ryo Tanaka. His father is the head of the Yakuza. He’s so good-looking!”
I glance at her, and the moment she notices, she waves at me, grinning as if she thinks she stands a chance with me. Her friend leans forward, looking excited as she asks, “Ryo, can we sit with you in your private section?”
Over my dead body will I pretend to be interested in a woman. Besides, it’s way too risky. One of them might get handsy and discover the disguise is fake and that I have breasts.