The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition
Page 131
Only he could wear an orange jumpsuit and pearly white canvas sneakers and still look as dapper as he would if he was wearing one of the three-thousand-dollar suits hanging in his closet.
“You’re a shit liar,” he retorts, tipping his chin to the seat on the other side of the table. “Sit.”
On the contrary, I’ve become an expert liar and I have good ‘ole Uncle Vic to thank for that talent. For the last six months, we’ve been lying to everyone who would listen, telling them he’s been grooming me for my new role as the boss of the Pastore family for years—when in fact, I got made on a Monday and on that Friday, I was sitting down with the five families, introducing myself as the new don.
I went from running a nightclub in Miami where I got my dick sucked every night, to playing with union delegates and buying out gun contracts from bikers. Millions were wired into off-shore accounts and I had a mansion on Todt Hill—complete with a shiny new Maserati in the driveway.
Like I said, appearances were big for Uncle Vic and if we were going to make everyone believe I was this up-and-coming gangster, I had to play the part.
A tailor came to my new pad and fitted me for fifty grand in designer suits. I can also tell you; I am now the proud owner of a collection of silk ties—I fucking hate ties. Why not just tie a noose around your fucking neck and call it a day?
Speaking of ties…
“Still can’t manage to put a goddamn tie on, can you?” he sneers as I take a seat. Flashing him a grin, I shrug my shoulders.
“It’s in the car.”
“It belongs around your fucking neck,” he retorts, shaking his head. Sighing, he crosses his arms against his chest and stares at me for a beat. “Look at you.”
“C’mon Uncle Vic,” I grunt. “This is our last visit before your transferred, you gonna bust my balls or give me one final lesson?”
His lips form a thin line as he continues to keep his eyes on me.
“You might not be wearing a tie, but you look like a goddamn leader Rocco and not one of these little wannabe cocksuckers. You look like the real fucking boss of the Pastore family and that makes me prouder than you’ll ever know.”
You never know how much you need to hear something until the words find your ears and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. For half my life I’ve wanted nothing more than to make this man proud. It was the only way I could ever repay him for not turning his back on me and for being a man I could look up to.
He might be my uncle on a family tree, but in my heart, he’s the father I got cheated out of having raised me and fuck…I’m going to miss him.
And while he may have done his best to prepare me for inheriting his empire, I wish he would’ve taken the time to teach me how to say goodbye.
“So, this is it, huh?” I rasp.
He nods, swallowing.
“You’re going to be fine,” he assures me.
“You really believe that?”
When I first sat down with him in Miami, it was me, him, and Joaquin—he had zero faith in my ability to run his organization. To him, I was nothing more than a consolation prize to the kingdom he built.
Then all hell broke loose and the plan he had in place needed to change some. Every lie became a brick and soon I was standing on top of all of them, announcing to the world, I was the second coming of Victor Pastore. Everyone, including his son-in-law, Anthony Bianci, was shocked. No one saw me as a threat and even now, I’m still not sure they do. However, every play that’s been made for Victor’s territory since he turned himself in, has been shut down and I’m the guy doing it.
I’m the motherfucker pushing drug dealers off the street and keeping kids safe enough to play outside until the streetlights go on. I’m the guy keeping my aunt in her million-dollar house and Uncle Vic’s son-in-law out of harms way. Me, I’m the man doing all this. I’m keeping the legacy alive.
But truth be told, most days I wing it.
“I do,” he answers finally. “But it’s time for you to call Joaquin. I don’t know how much longer I have and there is no guarantee things are going to fair well for me after the transfer.”
The transfer he’s talking about has been staged by him. He used all his connections to get moved to a penitentiary down south—away from his family and conveniently where the number one enemy is incarcerated, killing two birds with one stone. Aunt Grace and the girls don’t have to watch him deteriorate and he can go out like the bull he is, performing one last hit.
“Once word gets out that I’m gone, things are going to get rough for you and you’re going to need to build your own crew,” he adds, pausing to cock his head. He studies me pensively. “Have you spoken with Joaquin lately?”
Joaquin wasn’t of Italian descent and if we were going by the rules of our ancestors, he could never be a made guy. However, Uncle Vic liked to make his own rules and had documents forged proving Joaquin had Italian blood running through his veins. This would allow me to bring him to New York and be part of my crew.
The thing is, Joaquin’s still grieving and while he’s always had my back, I fear he’s going to be a loose cannon. Deciding to spare Uncle Vic from that information, I give him a nod.
“He’s good,” I assure him.
Seeming to believe me, we move on and I catch him up to speed on everything that’s gone down since our last visit. I tell him how I checked in on his wife and how Anthony hates my guts for taking a job he feels should’ve gone to him. The last thing we discuss is the Satan’s Knights MC and how important it is for me to eat Jack Parrish’s shit.
I don’t know what the fuck is so special about that man. He’s a fucking lunatic for one, and he wants absolutely nothing to do with me. But the leather clad nutcase is all aces in Uncle Vic’s book. It’s almost comical, they’re complete opposites and yet you can tell each man has respect and admiration for the other.
I, on the other hand, think Jack is a dick and I can’t wait for the day I don’t have to associate with him or his godforsaken club, but I made a promise to my uncle and so long as he’s breathing I’ll play nice with Parrish.
Maybe even save his hide from a Russian gangster trying to push in on his territory.
“Hey,” I start, tapping my fingers against the metal table. “I wanted to ask you a question. Does the name Vladimir Yankovich ring any bells?”
Uncle Vic’s eyebrows knit together.
“The Russian?” he scoffs, dismissing the name with a wave of a hand. “He’s a cunt. Years ago, he tried to make a name for himself. He’s all about drugs so you know how that went. It makes sense with me being in here, that he would try to make another play.”
“Maybe he’s not a cunt no more,” I suggest. “Guys got a big operation.”
“And you’ve got an empire. Get rid of him.”
“Time’s up Pastore,” the guard calls. “Wrap it up.”
Uncle Vic turns his head slightly, eyeing the guard for a moment before he drags his gaze back to mine.
“Well, this is it, kid,” he says. “There’s never enough time is there?”
“I suppose there’s not,” I reply hoarsely.
“Do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Reach out to your sister Rocco, it’s time the two of you patch things up. I don’t gotta tell you that she’s going to be a target, you know anyone associated with you now has a bullseye on their back. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad at them or if you haven’t spoken to them in years. The first people they go after are the ones you love, and I know you still got love for your sister. Keep her close. Your mother would want you and her to be close.”
I want to argue with him, but he’s right. My mother’s rolling in her grave knowing her two children can’t stand the sight of each other and she’d hate me if I ever let anything happen to Gina.
“Way to guilt a man,” I rasp.
“You know I’m right,” he says.
I don’t reply. Instead, I watch as he pushes back his chair. The l
egs screech across the linoleum and he pauses, bracing both hands on the edge of the table before he stands.
“One more thing,” he starts. I lift my eyes to his. “In your rise to power, don’t forget to make a life for yourself. In the end, you’ll regret it. You’ll wish you had more time to love and be loved.”
They were his parting words of wisdom.
A final lesson from one of the greatest men to ever walk the streets of New York.
“Straightened Out” is the first book in
the Pastore Crime Family Series and will release in the “Mobbed Up Anthology” this October.
Other Books by Janine Infante Bosco
The Tempted Series:
*all can be read as standalone*
Illicit Temptations (Book One)
Forbidden Temptations (Book Two)
Uncontrollable Temptations
(Book Three)
Reckless Temptations (Book Four)
Lethal Temptations (Book Five)
Eternal Temptations (Book Six)
The Nomad Series:
*all can be read as standalone*
Drifter (Book One)
Wanderer (Book Two)
Roamer (Book Three)
Loner (Book Four)
Satan’s Knights novels:
*all can be read as standalone*
From the Ruins
The Devil Don’t Sleep
Riding the Edge
Parrish
The Leather and Lace Duet
(Blackout Book One)
(Blackout Book Two)
Satan’s Knights novellas
Rite of Passage
Satan’s Knights Prospects Trilogy
Shifting Gears
Breaking the Chains
Walking the Line (coming soon)
Pastore Crime Family Series
Connected: A Pastore Crime Family Prequel (coming soon)
Straightened Out: A Pastore Crime Family Novel (coming soon)
Standalone novels
Raging Inferno – From the Burn Me Anthology – Full novel
The Riverdale Series:
*should be read in series order*
Pieces – Book One
Broken Pieces – Book Two
Fitting the Pieces – Book Three
Jake’s Journal (Book 3.5) novella – companion to the series
About the Author
Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself.
She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
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