Page 59 of Soulmate of the Mafia King (Kings of Philly #8)

KILLIAN

I sat behind my desk and looked out over my men.

Tommaso took his usual seat. Adrian hovered in the corner like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself yet, just like he had at the beginning.

Patrick was still laughing about spilling his wine.

Just like old times. I stood and started pouring everyone drinks.

“So,” I said, “do you have an update on the warehouses, Adrian?”

He started toward my desk, then paused. An odd moment passed.

It wasn’t really my desk anymore. I’d left the hunk of wood behind because I had no need for it on the island, and he’d loaded it down with computers in my absence.

Despite that, I’d never seen anyone sit behind it but my father besides me.

I offered Adrian a drink. “Sit.”

He nodded. “Didn’t want to step on your toes. The situation is pretty simple, all told, but I can tell there’s a certain amount of grace I’m supposed to be handling this foreman with, and I don’t?—”

Tommaso joined me at the bar to pour. “Do you remember that foreman in the south side warehouse?”

I swallowed a smile. “He was a perfectly professional man.”

“The first time you met him, he was so nervous he spit in your face,” Tommaso said. “That happened to you yet, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckled. “I’m afraid my name doesn’t carry the weight of Mano Della Morte yet.”

“Yet.” Tommaso raised his drink. “The best word in the English language.”

Adrian raised his glass in turn. “I don’t know that foreman, but I do remember when you set me out to do IT for this warehouse over in the east, and I’d bet my bottom dollar that place hadn’t been rewired since the telegraph days.

I think I was out there for a week before I came back to you, shivering, and told you I’d need a paleontology degree to bring it up to snuff. ”

I handed Patrick the last glass and said, “If I remember correctly, I told you to hire a goddamn paleontologist. Now, the warehouse?—”

Everyone laughed over me, but instead of slamming something to get their attention, I let them laugh.

Seeing Adrian behind my desk, my mind wandered.

That warehouse had been from a smaller family I toppled, but I had more than enough dead syndicates to my name now.

The Bianchis, though their heir was about to be a Ricci instead.

The De Lucas. The Marinos with Tommaso’s syndicate’s assistance.

I’d painted my name on this city in blood, just like my father wanted.

I sipped my own drink, let it burn down my throat.

Two years ago, I’d sat in this room planning to purchase Delaney Lombardi.

A standard mission, a parting fuck-you to her father.

I didn’t know if the man I’d been then would recognize the one I was now.

I’d hovered over Philadelphia like a shadow, and now I chafed at the first tie I’d worn in months.

We weren’t getting any work done tonight. But I had a week to get work done. I sat in one of the chairs across from my desk and tried to get used to this view of the room.

Maybe I would tell Sera to check on Delaney.

She should still be safe, but knowing that would feel right.

Circular. It all started with her and the moment I decided to let her have her freedom with my money instead of leaving her body on an enemy’s doorstep.

The moment I decided I didn’t want to scare Sera.

Hell, the moment I saw Sera at the auction.

Ending up with her was the best mistake of my life.

I sipped my drink and listened to the clamor of my men.

Lately, I’d been thinking about Francesco.

His betrayal had changed everything, and I’d never understood how he could do that.

These men were, and had always been, my family.

Even with Sera and the baby, I would die for the people in this room.

But as I rejoined them for the first time in months, I realized I didn’t need to understand.

Francesco, De Luca, Sera’s father, all of them were types of men I never could have been. That would be enough for me.

“All right, all right.” Tommaso raised his hands. “I have to get the missus home. Big day at the shelter tomorrow. What do you say we wrap it up before we all get too drunk to see straight? My driver’s waiting, but he’s not as talented as Patrick, and he’s not fucking driving anywhere.”

Patrick chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll go alert your driver and try to disappear before you can drag out the goodbyes.” He left.

Adrian stood and nodded at me. “I can be by as early as seven tomorrow to actually get some work done.”

I smiled tiredly. “If you’ll forgive the turn of phrase, I’m on island time now. How about nine?”

Adrian left with a smile, and only Tommaso remained. I waited for him to give some polite excuse and leave, but he wandered over to the bar, pulled out the bottle I kept only for him, and poured two shots.

“To you and Sera.” He offered me the glass. “And baby makes three.”

I accepted it with a grimace. “Why do we have to toast with your bullshit?”

“Because you retired first.” He grinned and raised his glance. “Cheers or what?”

I shook my head. “To you and Paige as well. You seem very happy.”

He knocked his glass against mine and threw back the liquor.

I did the same. The smoky taste clung to the back of my throat, dense and cloying.

Tommaso laughed at the look on my face. Perhaps it was only how much had changed that made me feel this way, but I thought Tommaso was the sort of man I could never be either.

He became a boss almost incidentally. He was a natural choice, of course, but he hadn’t been raised for the role.

He didn’t grow up in the shadow of Philadelphia to become its shade.

“I could not have asked for a better friend.” I stared at my glass.

“Even though I make you drink to my bullshit?” he asked.

Without him, I didn’t know that I would’ve been human enough to see Sera for what she was when she came along.

“Yes.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “I couldn’t have asked for better either.”

Tommaso started to leave, and I leaned forward on a strange impulse. For one of the first times in our long friendship, I hugged him. After a heartbeat’s hesitation he hugged me back.