Page 503 of One More Kiss

Avery

As I walkedthrough the house, I kept my head held high. My father’s men were tense and watchful. Some knew what was going on; others didn’t but could feel the tension in the air.

All of the men watched me carefully. They wanted to protect me, to keep me close at all times. They knew how important I was to my father and how he’d kill anyone who’d tried to hurt me.

Being the daughter of the longest running don had made me wary of everyone. I always viewed people as having an agenda, always wanting something from me. I was also my father’s biggest weakness. He was probably the most powerful man in the US of A.

I’d lost so many people to the war he had with Frank Carpone.

The Carpones were ruthless and didn’t care who they hurt in their quest for power. The war between the Famiglia and the syndicate had killed dozens of men, women, and children. It was a war that I didn’t understand. To me, there was nothing more important than life. I didn’t agree with what happened, but I wasn’t stupid enough to ever voice my opinion. Going against the don just wasn’t done. It was the ultimate disrespect, even if he was my father.

I loved him—he was an amazing dad. I just didn’t love the life. If I had a way out, if I could be anyone but the Bilotti principessa, I’d take it in a heartbeat. I’d go far away and start over.

I had never been involved in the business. Women weren’t allowed to be—not that I’d want to. I’d never done anything illegal and yet I felt as though I was guilty of the atrocities my father and his men had caused.

I abhorred violence. Even the thought of it made me sick to my stomach. But my father and his men got off on it. I didn’t judge them for it. I never would. But it was not something that I would ever deem acceptable. The crimes that they had committed ranged from extortion and labor racketeering, to murder—and everything in between.

The stories of what happened to my mother were akin to folklore. Everyone had a different story, none of them the truth. My mother left. She’d had enough of the crime and danger that my father had put her through. In the Famiglia, divorce wasn’t an option. It was marriage or death. No one got to escape. But unlike the majority of men in the Bilotti organization, my father loved my mother. He understood the pain and suffering that she felt at the loss of her unborn child at the hands of the Carpones. They’d shot her and the trauma caused her to have miscarriage. The sobs my mother cried when the doctor told her she lost my sister haunted me at night.

Mom walked out the door and never looked back. Everyone believed she’d died—as was the way of the Famiglia—but she didn’t. She was alive and well in a different country, or so it was said. She’d wanted to take me, but she wasn’t allowed. My father had granted her safety, but he wouldn’t allow her to bring me with her.

But she’d fucked up. She’d betrayed my father in a way that no one should. She went to Carpones, dead set on making a trade. She wanted Frank Carpone to take out the Famiglia in return for me to be at her side. Frank used the information my mom gave him against my father, which lead to a deathly shootout that killed more than a dozen men on each side. Thankfully, my father survived.

The same couldn’t be said about my mother. The moment my father discovered her betrayal, he took her out. At that point, the love I’d had for her had died. I knew the consequences of her actions—I even understood why she wanted to do it—but I could never condone the route she took. Because of her, men died.

She was the main reason that I didn’t trust people. She betrayed not only my father, but also me.

She was not the only one to had done so. I had become close to a few men, but they eventually betrayed my father. All of them were now dead.

So, I kept my distance. I was wary of men—especially the new recruits. I couldn’t help but wonder why they joined my father’s organization and if they were a plant from the cops or from Carpone himself.

I strode out the patio doors to the deck and Marco approached me.

“Principessa, please stay inside the house,” he said, his gaze going around the back yard, studying the men milling about. “There’s a meeting this evening. Stay in your room and stay safe.”

I nodded. The edge to his tone was enough for me to know that he was worried. Inside was the safest place for me. Only my father’s inner circle knew about the safety features of our household. The multiple safe rooms, the way the house locked down when a secret button was pushed.

“Keep him safe, Marco,” I whispered.

Marco was one of the only men that I trusted, the other being my father. Marco had been by my father’s side since the beginning and never let him down. Marco was an uncle to me, and he protected me as though I was his own daughter.

“With my life, Avery,” he said. “Have your phone in your hands at all times.”

“I promise,” I told him.

I headed through the back door to my bedroom. It was where I would stay until dad finished his meeting with all his soldiers in the guest house.

Carpone was dead set on having my father murdered. We knew there was a mole in the Famiglia; the only problem was that we didn’t know who.

I didn’t understand how that was possible. My father and Marco were both distrustful as the best of times, so how had someone managed to infiltrate the organization and stay long enough to feed information to Frank?

For all our sakes, I hoped that they found out who was doing this and soon. If not, this situation would blow up in our faces and bring about a hell of a lot of death.

* * *

Almost four hours later,my cellphone buzzed on the bed. I was laying on my back and read a new-to-me author. The book was fantastic, but my mind wasn’t in the right place to read. However, I needed to do something, or I would go stir crazy during the all-hands meetings my father was hosting. They were the perfect time for the enemy to hit, all Dad’s men in the same place at the same time.

I glanced at my cell. The message was from my father. My body sagged in relief. He was back inside the main house.

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