Page 120 of Mafia and Gold Digger

Next to me is my uncle, but despite his presence, I’m completely bewildered by what’s going on around me.

I hear the prayers being said, but everything feels like it’s seeped in a thick fog. But this is my reality now.

Because my reality is that my mommy and daddy are dead.

And I’ve been left all alone in this world.

All because of what the adults keep calling a drive-by shooting.

People are swarmed around me—the family and the men my daddy worked with. I’m not sure exactly what Daddy did at work each day, but I think it’s why he and Mommy got shot.

I choke back my tears, trying to keep them at bay as the two expensive caskets are lowered into the black ground. I’ve managed to keep my tears back all morning—in the church, while people murmured words I scarcely heard, while memories of the people I love most in the whole wide world tumbled through my mind.

Because my uncle’s told me that it’s not okay to cry. He says we’re made men, whatever that means—I think it’s something to do with Daddy’s work. But I do know that I’m expected to be strong and brave.

The rain is falling now, heavy drops pelting down on top of us and turning the soil darker and muddier.

“Throw it onto the caskets,” my uncle commands with an impatient jerk of his chin toward the grave.

I throw the red rose and bear down to my mommy and daddy.

A rough laugh leaves my uncle. “You were supposed to throw just the flower, not the bear as well. What would your parents want with a teddy?”

I realize my mistake and fall to my knees upon the muddy ground and look down into the big gaping hole. “I have to get my teddy back!” I cry out.

“Too late for that,” he says, laughing again. “It’s gone forever.”

And then he sees the tears I can’t hold back any longer.

“Stop crying, you big baby. You can’t be crying over a dumb toy.”

I’m crying, but not about the teddy bear. It’s about my parents, of course. About the mommy and daddy I’ve lost forever and never going to get back. About the parents who’re never going to wake up again. About the two people I need the most…

After explaining this all to Emerald, I look down at my hands. “I see that moment in my dreams every damn night. Over and over again, the darkness just swallowing the rose, the bear, and…my parents. It’s like the darkness is lying in wait to swallow me whole too. That was the…”

I clear the emotion from my throat, trying to work past the way it’s choking me.

“That was the last time I cried. The last time I cared about anything like that. Veneti men aren’t weak—and that’s weakness.” I shake my head. “I lost my parents forever that day. It’s what makes me this emotionless and cold man. And it’s what makes me a great assassin.”

Finally, she knows. This should make it easier now. But the longer I stare at her, the more I can see the emotions battling in her mind.

“I get why you’re like this, Saint—and why the teddy bear is now another name scratched off your hit list, but…” She shakes her head. “No, no buts. I get it, and I appreciate you telling me so I can understand what’s going on with you.” She smiles at me, but for once, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I need to get ready for my shift.”

“Wait, you’re working on your birthday?”

“Just for a few hours. You didn’t say you had anything planned.”

“I, uh, do have something planned.” Another lie. “But we can do it later.” She nods before moving into the bathroom to shower and change.

I stare after her, unmoving. I rack my brain, trying to think of something that shows her I can do better than this for her birthday. Because if I don’t figure it out, don’t figure all my shit out, I know I’m going to lose her. My jaw tightens. That’s not happening until I’m six fucking feet under.

The drive from the house to the casino is quiet until I say goodbye to her as she gets out of my SUV, and the drive back is even worse as I’m left alone with my thoughts. I promised her something amazing when she gets back home. And it needs to be something that tops goddamn red roses and a fucking cutesy bear.

When I get back to the mansion, Milena suggests we all bake a birthday cake for Emerald.

“Do you think she’d like that?” I ask, completely unsure of what’s the right thing to do.

Milena nods, flashing a thumbs up. “Totally. Having something homemade is way better than store bought.”

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