Page 108 of Wrathful King

Reina’s brows scrunched. “Yours?”

She nodded. “I—I told your mamma about it. Not sure why Tomaso kept it.” Pain and regret flashed in her eyes, but Reina firmly held her gaze. “It looks good on you. It b-belongs to you.”

Compassion took over Reina’s features. We both knew my mother wasn’t going to make it.

“Thank you.” Reina’s voice was a choked whisper. “I’ll cherish it forever.”

“Give it to…” She gripped my hand with a newfound strength. “Give it to your children.”

Reina breathed heavily, tears streaming down her face, then nodded.

“P-promise.” A sob split from her lips. “M-musuko.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I understand.” Fuck, my chest twisted. None of it mattered anymore. Yes, it was all fucked up, but watching her like this, in pain, put it all into perspective.

“I love you,musuko.” Those were the last words she spoke. Her next breath would be her last.

“Love you too,” I rasped, my voice barely audible.

38

REINA

It had been two days since Hana’s death.

The members of the Omertà came to visit us in the Romero villa and officially proclaimedAmon the head of the Romero family, taking over for Papà who would spend the rest of his days at peace in the Philippines.

All were present except for Dante.

It was pretty much a formality at this point. There were also additional men in the garden who came to visit and witness his anointing into the Omertà. First of its kind, and somehow it suited him. Amon was unlike anyone before.

I lingered in the shadows outside of my papà’s old office in Venice, eavesdropping—some habits were hard to break.

A video call came in. Amon answered it and Dante’s image came on the large monitor. He looked tired but content.I thought so, at least.

“Okay, I believe we’re ready to start,” Marchetti announced. The kings of the Omertà sat around the table, a tense air creeping through the room on hands and knees.

“Before we move on making Amon the head of the Romero Omertà seat, we need to address Reina Romero’s murder of Angelo Leone,” Giovanni Agosti declared. He was hot, younger than Enrico and Manuel Marchetti, but no less attractive. Although, compared to Amon, they all paled.

“How about we keep my half sister out of it,” Dante declared, flipping him off. Okay, that wasn’t very mature, but it warmed my heart. “She’s earned that much.”

“Agreed,” Marchetti declared. “It was self-defense.”

“I’ll make sure I remember that when I want to kill off my old man,” Agosti deadpanned. “Oh that’s right, he’s dead already.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Dante drawled.

Agosti flipped off Dante this time. These men were so immature.

“And what kept you from coming in person?” Luca DiMauro asked. “After all, you’re the closest one in both location and relation to Amon.”

Nobody knew it, but Dante would be here tomorrow for Hana’s funeral. Amon said he couldn’t give me all the details, but he assured me it was for the best, that it was the safest thing for Phoenix and us.

“I’m busy.” Dante’s response was clipped.

“Doing what?” Agosti snickered. “Being an asshole?”

“Okay, let’s take a vote,” Konstantin cut in, putting an end to the bickering. “I want to get back to my family, as I’m sure we all do.”