Never Truth Amazon

by Ramsower, Jill

  “We haven’t been friends for years—you know that.” I was furious with her and barely able to contain my anger. Seeing his name had instantly conjured images of his face, contorted with disgust and contempt from the last time we spoke. I had assumed it was a phase or some kind of misunderstanding—that he would get over whatever had upset him—and things would go back to normal.

  That was seven years ago.

  Nothing was ever the same after that day.

  Mom looked over at me with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, baby girl. You know I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I released a long, resigned sigh, my anger quickly dissipating at her remorse. “I know, Mom. I’m sure it’ll be fine. He probably won’t even show up.” It was the truth. I hadn’t run into him in seven years, so what were the chances he would actually show up to a party in my honor?

  Mom gave a tight smile that looked suspiciously like guilt, but before I could question her, she changed the subject. “Let’s go dress shopping, just you and me. I have time tomorrow, and we haven’t done something together in so long. We can shop and have lunch. We’ll find you something perfect to wear to your party!”

  Oh, hell.

  My mother’s idea of the perfect dress was something akin to what Cinderella wore to the ball. My sense of style and hers did not mesh, but she was so excited, I couldn’t find the words to refuse. “Yeah, we can do that.”

  “Wonderful! And I opened the sunroom and started to set up your old studio so you can paint while you’re here.” She paused, and her eyes took on a weary sadness. “I never thought I’d say this, but I miss having your paint all over the house.”

  I was her youngest—the baby of the family—and she experienced a deep sense of loss when she became an empty nester. That first year I was at Columbia, she hosted a dozen parties to keep herself busy. Since then, she had settled into the next phase of her life and was satisfied so long as we all showed up for weekly dinners.

  “That’s sweet, Mom. Thanks.” I walked to her outstretched arms, and she wrapped me in a warm hug.

  “We’re glad you’re home, even if it is just for a few weeks. How about you get settled in and let me know if there’s anything I’ve forgotten, okay?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.” I kissed her cheek and headed for the stairs. My sisters and I had our bedrooms on the second floor along with a fourth room that had been our older brother’s. That door always remained shut, which had probably made it harder to forget than if my parents had simply emptied the room and dedicated it to another purpose. Instead, it was a constant memorial to what we’d all lost.

  I’d walked the path to my room a million times in my life, and it was hard not to feel like the lost little girl I’d once been as I retraced those same steps. It was precisely why I never went up there after I moved out. Even when I stopped in on Sunday for our obligatory family dinners, I stuck to the ground floor. Seeing the closed door was hard enough on my battered heart, but the reminder of Nico was more than it could take. Rather than unpack, I curled beneath the covers of my double bed and allowed the strong hands of grief to drag me down beneath the surface of its icy waters.

  Chapter 3

  Nico

  Now

  Everyone in the outfit had been on edge for the past twenty-four hours after Alessia Genovese was kidnapped. Word got around when she’d been located, but tensions were still elevated to a stifling degree. Shit behind the scenes must have been bad because Alessia’s father, Enzo Genovese, stepped out of the shadows for the first time and took ownership of his role as boss of the Lucciano family.

  My boss.

  I was sworn member of his outfit—whether I had wanted to be or not.

  Now, it was an accepted part of my life, but that hadn’t always been the case. Once I was initiated, I had no choice but to accept my fate and settle into my role as a soldier in the organization. I was a grunt and well aware of it, which was why it surprised me to receive a summons to attend a meet.

  Soldiers were pawns. Our capos gave us our marching orders, and that was generally as far up the chain as we had contact. When I stepped into the Manhattan conference room at a building I’d never been to before, I was stunned to find myself in a room full of capos along with Enzo Genovese himself. I only knew two men in the room by sight—my capo, Gabe, and a longtime friend, Tony Pellegrini, who was already seated on the opposite side of the room. He gave me a lopsided smile and a chin lift but stayed seated. I didn’t know any of the other men, but judging by their age and expensive clothes, I was likely the only soldier in the room.

  I tried to keep the tension from coiling in my shoulders—guys like these could smell unease—but it was hard when I had no fucking clue what I was doing there. Gabe had greeted me when I entered the room, but I hadn’t been given any other information or instruction. Resorting to my normal MO, I took a seat in one of the chairs along the wall of the room and sat back to observe.

  My dad was a degenerate gambler, and his worthlessness had colored my perceptions of the outfit when I discovered he was a member. It didn’t take me long once I’d been taken into the fold to realize there was a lot more to the life than my father. Every corner of the Earth had its share of addicts and miscreants. But in the family, those guys never made it past the bottom rung—soldiers, if they were lucky, but many were only ever associates. The room was full of successful businessmen, powerful and well-established in the organization, and I had no idea what the fuck I was doing there.

  “Alright fellas, let’s get started.” Enzo didn’t have to holler over the murmur of voices to seize the attention of everyone in the room. At his simple command, the room went silent as a mortuary, and all eyes turned to where Enzo stood at the head of the table. “As everyone here has heard, we recently suffered an unforgiveable betrayal. My trusted underboss, Sal Amato, set my daughter and me up to be killed and has been sullying the family name, angling for a war. He attempted to use my anonymity to usurp my role as boss. Everyone here knows that we prize secrecy above all else to protect ourselves and our families, but my removed presence left us vulnerable from within. I say ‘us’ because this wasn’t just an attack on me. Sal’s actions have affected us all.” His searing gaze swept the room as he addressed the group, his voice resounding with certainty. “We don’t call meetings like this anymore because it’s not safe to have us all in one place, but this needed to happen, if only for a few minutes. Things are going to change. I want every one of you to hear it straight from my mouth. I’m taking this outfit back.”

  He didn’t get another word out before the room erupted in cheers. I joined the group in clapping for the return of strong leadership in our organization. Although the same man was still in charge, it made an enormous difference with how we were perceived when our leader stood proudly front and center. I might not have been the typical goodfella, but I was a part of the outfit for life, and I had no desire to see it run by a man hiding in the shadows.

  “As the first matter of business moving forward,” Enzo continued, quieting the crowd. “I’m pleased to name Gabe Fiore as my new underboss.” He gestured to Gabe who stood from his place at the table to clasp Enzo’s hand. It was clear this wasn’t news to Gabe, and I silently cursed the man for not giving me a heads-up.

  While the room clapped in congratulations, my hands involuntarily followed suit, but my mind raced to grasp the implications. Before I could get far, I was drawn from my thoughts at the sound of my name.

  “Antonico Conti,” Enzo announced, all eyes landing on me. “Normally, these matters are handled on a smaller stage, but I wanted all my capos present today. Going forward, you will take on Gabe’s previous role in the outfit as capo.”

  I hadn’t been caught off guard in years, but his words had my heart stuttering in my chest. Hands patted my back warmly in congratulations, and I dropped my chin toward Enzo in acknowledgement of the honor he was bestowing upon me. The day had started out like any other, but I could hardly believe how vastl
y my life had just changed with the utterance of a few words.

  Capo.

  I’d been named a capo in the Lucciano family.

  Considering the bumbling legacy my father had established for me, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be considered for such a promotion. I would now outrank my father. Pride expanded in my chest and bubbled up until I couldn’t force down the smile that spread across my face. Not many men were selected at such a young age for advancement. Being named a capo was a remarkable honor, and I had every intention of proving myself worthy of the position.

  I had to force myself to set aside my racing thoughts and listen to Enzo as he continued.

  “We haven’t been able to corner Sal, but we will. I promise you,” he said with steely conviction. “In the meantime, I’ll be working hard to improve our relationship with the Gallos and the other families, along with other organizations.”

  The Lucciano and Gallo families had a long history of bad blood between them. Recently, Sal had stoked those fires further by having the Gallo Consigliere’s son killed and framing Enzo. While Sal’s treachery had been explained to the Gallos, it hadn’t fully eased the tension. The two families carried enough baggage through the years that even a small slight would be taken as a major offense, let alone the death of an important family member. We were lucky war hadn’t broken out.

  “In particular, we’re facing a major problem with the Russians. Yesterday, two of our soldiers were sent back to us with a message about a deal we have allegedly backed out of, so we’ll have to figure out what Sal’s done and find a way to smooth things over.” A message was a polite way of saying they’d been beaten half to death. The Russians were fucking ruthless and only slightly less crazy than the Irish. It was never a good idea to cross either of them.

  Not wanting to push our luck by keeping everyone in one room for too long, Enzo finished his speech and closed out the meeting in a matter of minutes. I received several more congratulations on my way out and was introduced to some of the men I’d never met. The older men easily accepted me into the fold, and I was relieved to be so well received.

  So why in the hell did the meeting leave me wanting to put my fist through somebody’s face?

  The entire time I sat there, agitation bubbled up inside me like water in a boiling pot. It wasn’t until an hour later when I was taking out that unprovoked emotion on my sparring partner, Leo, when I finally caved and accepted the reason behind my anger. Seeing Enzo had taken me back to the lowest point in my life. He was a stark reminder of everything I’d lost. Not just the life I’d lost, but her—Enzo’s daughter, Sofia.

  Seeing him reminded me of her.

  Thoughts of her weren’t necessarily uncommon, but I no longer suffered the crushing anger and regret that came along with them. At least, not until I looked at Enzo and recognized her same hazel eyes in his. I had thought the emotions brought on from our separation had finally dissipated.

  Clearly, I’d been mistaken.

  It appeared all I’d done was bury the anguish deep inside me. One look at him, and it all came rushing back to the surface like water bursting through a dam.

  I shot my fist out in a wicked left cross that caught Leo on the chin.

  His head flew to the side, and he took a steadying step back. “Jesus, man! You tryin’ to break my jaw? I thought we were sparring here.” He took off his glove and massaged his face, the swelling already setting in.

  I let out a long sigh, my eyes drifting up to wander along the dusty rafters. “Shit, I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind and got carried away.”

  “I think you need to get back in the ring. When’s the last time you fought?” Leo leaned himself against the ropes, sweat dripping from his short blond hair down into his eyes.

  “It’s been a while. Guess I may not be doing that anymore … not sure. They made me capo today.” I removed my gloves and began to unwind the wraps from my hands without looking up at my longtime friend.

  “The fuck? And you’re just telling me now?” He was giving me a hard time, but I could hear the excitement in his voice.

  I raised my eyes to peer at him, the corner of my lip lifting in a smirk.

  Leo charged at me, wrapping his arms around my middle and hoisting me in the air with a whoop. “I knew my boy was gonna make it. You’re in the bigtime now!”

  “Put me down, dickhead,” I barked on a laugh.

  Leo dropped me before nailing me in the shoulder. “That’s great news, so what’s with all the attitude? How come you were pissed enough you almost took my head off?”

  I bent between the ropes and dropped down to the ground outside the ring. “Seeing Enzo just brought back a lot of shit I didn’t want to think about.”

  “Ah, Sofia,” he mused knowingly.

  “They fucked with my entire life. It’s not just her.” I wasn’t sure which one of us I was trying to convince.

  Judging by his smirk, Leo wasn’t buying it any more than I was. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  “Don’t you start calling me that.”

  “Call you what?” asked Kayla Barone, one of the resident gym bunnies as well as one of my go-to stress relievers. Her toned body could have graced the cover of Women’s Fitness, and she wasn’t shy about showing it off. Not only was she highly sexual, but she craved the attention.

  I met Kayla before I started training at Joe’s Gym. It was a couple of years after I’d been made, and her father had introduced us at a party. We were celebrating some birthday or holiday—I couldn’t even remember what the bullshit excuse was—but a number of us had gathered to sip on gold-label drinks in fancy clothes. I hated going to those things, but it was a part of the business. Kayla was wearing a silver tube-sock of a dress that barely covered the bottom of her ass cheeks. She had batted her eyes and giggled at me enough times to convey she was fair game, but her father was a capo, and there was no way I was going to sign my own death certificate. When I wouldn’t take the bait, she went so far as to lean over a chair and expose her bare pussy to me. I left the party as quickly as I could before I did something stupid. It wasn’t until I started going to Joe’s and heard about Kayla playing hokey pokey with half the guys there that I gave in. She’d proven good for a quickie in the locker room or acting as a plus-one should I need a no-strings date. Kayla definitely had her uses, but nothing about her appealed to me on a deeper level.

  No woman had since Sofia.

  “I called him boss. This guy was just named capo,” offered Leo with a pat on my shoulder as he made his way to the locker room. Ordinarily, we didn’t discuss that shit in public, but our gym was family owned. Everyone there was connected in one way or another, even Kayla.

  Her face lit with a wide, ultra-white grin, and she pressed her body up against mine, her hands resting on my chest. “That’s amazing news,” she offered in a husky purr. “I’d love to celebrate with you if you’re … up for it.” She peered up at me from beneath her fake lashes and pressed her rounded silicon breasts against me. Her enhancements weren’t my ideal, but they didn’t keep me from getting a stiffy in the middle of the gym.

  “Didn’t you start seeing Caleb a while back?” I wasn’t particularly close with him, but he was a decent guy.

  She gave a small shrug. “It’s not like we’re married. What he doesn’t know isn’t gonna hurt him. This is a celebration after all.”

  “I’ll pass.” I stepped back, grabbing a towel off a nearby bench, and started toward the locker rooms.

  “That’s where you’re gonna draw the line? You suddenly a Goody Two-shoes?” she shot back, incensed at being rebuffed.

  “Everyone has lines. Mine may be fucked up, but they’re there,” I called back over my shoulder.

  “You don’t have lines. I know you, Nico Conti. You’re not fooling anyone.”

  I didn’t look back because I had no response. I wasn’t about to argue over my rightful place on the spectrum of good and evil. She might have thought she knew me, but she didn’t know the hal
f of it. There was no question in my mind I’d be situated firmly between rotten and unforgivable.

  What did it say about me that I wouldn’t fuck around behind a friend’s back? Nothing. I was still a criminal. I’d done horrible things in my short life; some that made me feel like the most depraved sort of monster. The images of the things I’d done refused to be forgotten. They regularly haunted my dreams in graphic detail, reminding me that I had solidified my seat in hell.

  Some might argue I was redeemable because I could determine the difference between right and wrong. I disagreed. I firmly believed it was that very knowledge that was my damnation. A psychopath is sick. They see no black and white, right or wrong. They don’t know any better. But a man like me, I know the difference, and I hurt people anyway.

  That was the definition of evil.

  ***

  If seeing Enzo was an unwelcome trip down memory lane, getting a summons later that day to meet with him at his home was a fucking nightmare. I had no idea what he wanted to speak with me about, but when the boss calls, you go, no matter how much you dread it.

  Seeing that house again was a serious punch to the nuts—it literally winded me as I walked to the front sidewalk. I hated the emotions that stirred inside me at just seeing the place. It had been years since I’d walked up the steep steps to the front door.

  I had truly believed I’d never go there again.

  Up until this week, Enzo had kept his identity secret. Even though he was my boss in the outfit, I’d had no reason to see his face or speak his name. My discovery of his role had been an accident on the night of my initiation—my sixteenth birthday. I’d caught sight of him outside a window and known he was involved.

  For most kids, their sixteenth birthday is one of the best days of their lives. For me, it was the day my life ended. Not only did I lose my innocence but I’d also lost everything good in my life on that one night. But that was a long time ago. I’d made peace with how my life had unfolded, and I was a different person now. I’d made a name for myself and moved on. I’d survived just fine without her, despite the raging emotions I’d felt at the time. I was a teenager in mourning, certain the world had come to an end. Now that I was on the other side, I had no intention of burying myself in that same emotional sandpit.