Overview: As a Miami nightclub owner, Paolo takes to heart the code a life for a life, as do all the DeLuca's. That code, for Paolo, extends to the people under his employment. But he also has his own personal rules: Don't f**k the help. But it’s getting more and more difficult for him to keep his eyes off his sultry and sexy mahogany bartender, Lyric Mason. He doesn’t have time for love, not when there is a local gang trying to encroach on his counterfeit business.
Lyric Mason knows about those DeLuca’s. Her grandfather warned her not to get entangled with them and her grandmother doted on them. However, paying her way through art school is not up for debate. She does what she has to do, but when Lyric recognizes counterfeit bills filtering through the club, she finds herself in the middle of a storm that brings her up close and personal with the boss. And when he finally makes his presence known, time stands still, and Lyric is ready to throw away everything engrained in her about those DeLuca’s away.
Hell breaks loose and heads roll when you mess with Paolo’s family.
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| Paolo DeLuca by Tamika Brown (Savage Bloodline) Book |
Paolo DeLuca by Tamika Brown (Savage Bloodline) Book Read Online Chapter One
“I fucking hate funerals.”
Paolo stood in the rain next to his best friend and right-hand man, Dante Esposito, at his grandfather’s funeral. He didn’t like watching someone he loved being put in the ground, covered in dirt like they never mattered, and never be seen again. The shit made him claustrophobic thinking about it.
“We’re all going to miss him,” Dante stated, standing stoically beside him as they watched the man who’d taught them everything lowered into a hole in the ground. The greatest Don the DeLuca Famiglia had ever known was relegated to a fucking hole in the ground.
Anger coursed through Paolo’s veins as roses were tossed onto the casket as family member after family member paid their respects.
“Do we know the motherfucker who did this?” Paolo stared at the back of his cousin Enzo’s head, waiting for Dante to answer.
“We do.” Dante gave a curt nod. “I spoke with Vito briefly when we got here.”
Paolo clenched his free fist and held his umbrella tighter with his other hand, feeling the steel rod beneath his grip give way.
“And what the fuck are we gonna do about it?”
Dante turned to stare at him, but Paolo never took his eyes off Enzo. He would take Grandfather’s death the hardest. Enzo spent the most time with him, learning about the old ways—being groomed to lead. They all knew from an early age who would be the next Don of the DeLuca family.
“We show them who we are,” Dante finally answered, causing Paolo to pull his gaze away from his grieving cousin.
“Then I want in,” he said between gritted teeth. “Talk to Vito.”
Though Dante was not a DeLuca, he was family. He and Paolo grew up together. Dante spent more time at Paolo’s house than any of his blood cousins did. Over the years when Paolo and his father Antony went to Italy to visit the Don, Dante went with them. Dante’s father had been a made man and lived the same life they lived before he was gunned down. The DeLuca family was all Dante knew. He was famiglia.
Before he could get the words out, Dante shook his head. “I already have. The plan has been in motion since the day the Don was shot. You’re too late in the game. Plus, you need to be at the manor to help keep up appearances while they do what needs to be done.”
Paolo understood, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Family is always first. Always had been, always would be. He’d do what Enzo needed him to do. The dirt, well mud, filled most of the hole they’d lowered his grandfather in as he looked around to see the family dispersing back to the various cars parked around the cemetery.
“You know, I planned to visit next week,” Paolo said as they joined the crowd. He sighed as the rain continued its steady assault. “I had my flight crew getting ready for our trip here when I got the call about Grandfather.”
The things he wished he could’ve said. The things he could’ve done and would never get the chance thanks to the son of a bitch who thought it was wise to put a bullet into a DeLuca. Tears welled in his eyes, but he blinked them back. It had been years since he cried about anything. He didn’t know if it was because his grandfather was gone or because he was so fucking angry. Crying was a sign of weakness. The DeLucas weren’t weak.
The sheets of rain fell like the skies had opened and mourned along with the family.
“Let me say my goodbye,” Paolo said to Dante, who nodded and headed back to their car.
Paolo took his steps toward Ermano DeLuca’s final resting place as the gravediggers shoveled dirt on the flower-laden casket.
Laughter rang out around Paolo as he stood on the fringes of the family reception. How could people sit here and laugh and have fun while their Don wasted away in the ground, and the person who killed him ran free, for now?
At least there would be swift and final retribution. He just wished he’d gotten the chance to take part in it. Patience was not one of his virtues, but to know the son of a bitch who killed his grandfather would take his last breath tonight, was almost enough.
“Paolo,” Dante called, bringing him back to the present. Paolo turned, focusing on his best friend. “They’re back.”
Paolo straightened as Enzo, Uncle Pietro and Peter entered the room. By the looks of him, the deed was done. Paolo could breathe a little easier knowing that fucker was dead, and his grandfather’s death was avenged. Soon, it would be time to install and pledge allegiance to the new Don of the DeLuca Famiglia. Peter, the consigliere, had already read Grandfather’s will. Some of the family were still chattering—disgruntled about its contents.
Paolo’s gaze left Enzo and the others. It would be a few before things would proceed.
“Have you been in touch with Gino? How’s the club?”
Gino DeLuca was Paolo’s cousin and partner. They ran the club Night Shade together. While Paolo was in Italy, he entrusted Gino to run things at home, including his counterfeit operation. He would fill him in later about what was happening here, but eventually, Gino would have to pledge fealty to the new Don, just like all of his family. Gino had his reasons for not attending, which Paolo was sure he would have to explain to Enzo later.
“Briefly,” Dante said. “He said the bartender quit, but he’s already hired another.”
Paolo shook his head. “Let me guess. One of the regulars got handsy, and that’s why they quit?”
Dante nodded. “Yes, but not before she slapped the shit out of him.”
Paolo chuckled. Most of Night Shade’s bartenders were women. But it took a certain kind of woman to work for him. She had to be a ballsy bitch and know how to handle herself. Women brought in the big money for the club. He wouldn’t apologize for being sexist when it came to his money.
“What about the new girl?” Paolo asked. “Is she going to work out?”
Before Dante could answer, Enzo’s voice rose above the din, silencing everyone. When Uncle Alfonso posed the question, who would be the next Don, Paolo knew the answer. There was no doubt in his mind it was Enzo, but apparently, the decision was hard for some to believe. The tiresome back and forth between Uncle Alfonso and Enzo got on his goddamn nerves. The power struggle between the two men was getting old. Someone needed to shut his uncle the fuck up. Paolo had a mind to do it.
“Why don’t they just get the shit moving?” he muttered to Dante, downing half the bourbon in his tumbler.
Once Enzo established that everyone believed Grandfather to be of sound mind at the time of the writing of the will, Enzo invited the family to contest it. Granted Enzo threatened to put a bullet in the head of anyone who didn’t have valid reason; Paolo thought it was only fair he heard them out. When no one volunteered, Uncle Alfonso spoke about the family rules. Paolo had read those rules and memorized them word for word. Most in this room knew them, handed down from Don to Don. Uncle Alfonso mentioned the one rule Paolo knew would solidify those not convinced Enzo was the new Don. The rule that demanded the person who killed the one responsible for the Don’s death could challenge the deceased Don’s successor.
“This is about to be a shit show,” Dante mumbled.
Paolo agreed.
“Would you expect anything less from family?”
They were all going to flip when they found out the fucker who killed Grandfather was dead. Enzo threw Don Soldano’s ring, of the Soldano family, on the table.
“A life for a life,” Paolo whispered under his breath.
Once Enzo relayed what happened, and there was a witness, murmurs lifted throughout the room. Paolo listened to some and ignored others. But one reigned true. For a Don to give up another family member as the killer, every word Enzo uttered must have been true. There was no doubt in Paolo’s mind Enzo should be the new Don. His name was read in Don Ermano’s will, and he avenged Grandfather’s death. But others in the family still needed the proof Enzo was who Don Ermano wanted as his successor.
Pietro’s voice rose among the mutters, stating the old Don wanted new, fresh blood to take over. That he wanted all the cousins around Enzo’s age to be close—and they were. There were instances when Enzo called him to ask how things were going at the club. Hell, he’d asked for Enzo’s advice when he was thinking about opening it─ a step further in what his father, Antony, started. Unlike his father, Paolo knew the benefits of having a source of income that was legal. Now three years later, his businesses flourished—those legal and illegal.
When Grandfather called, Paolo always picked up. He always listened, soaked in all that knowledge of the old ways, and when it was time to hang up, he often found it hard to let the conversation die. He imagined that was how Enzo felt as well, but even more so since Grandfather raised him. All of them close in age remained in contact with one another. They were as close as his grandfather wanted them to be. They had one another’s backs more so than the others, which was fine with Paolo. He knew many in his family couldn’t be trusted, but they were still family.
All the questioning of what Grandfather wanted needed to fucking stop. And apparently, Enzo thought so as well. The time for the initiation was now. The DeLuca Family was about to witness the rise of a new Don.
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