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PROLOGUE

LUCA

Ten years old

“WHO DID YOU fucking talk to?” my father demands

“No one, John,” Uncle Marco snaps “You know that—”

“I knohat I’ve been told and what you are saying doesn’t add up!” He pokes his brother in the chest “And you” He points atrooainst thethat overlooks their backyard “You’ve been running your fucking mouth too much”

Tears fill her brown eyes as she stares at my father Her shoulders shake, and she bites her botto to s a sob

John Bianchi puts the fear of God in you Because he is god As the Don—the ringleader of the Italian-American Mafia—he decides when your time is up and how you pay for your sins He was born in New York, but he and as when my father was fourteen Uncle Marco elve The laws in Sin City were et his hands dirtier He likes life messy

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Marco shoves my father

“I’ll talk to the bitch however I fucking please!” He puncheshim to his knees

Aunt Ava cries out as blood runs down his chin, but she doesn’t dare go to her husband No, she stays in her corner, knowing da she can do At this point, all she can hope is that my father spares her life

“You son of a bitch,” Marco groiping the blood off

My father pulls the gun from the waistband of his dress slacks and points it down at his brother

“John!” He throws up his hands, eyes so dark, they’re al with ure this out I swear it wasn’t me …”

My father pulls the trigger

I ju inher knees to her chest, she openly sobs

I look back at my uncle He never did live up to the expectations of the Bianchi family My father was born in the er brother always played a role Marco has wanted out for years, and this was the only way he was going to get it Putting a bullet in his head was John Bianchi’s way of sparing him He could have made my uncle suffer