Page 72 of The Don's Secret Heir

My father sighed.“I would have thought you’d want to be a part of this. You know that one day all of it will be yours.”

Sure. One day when I’m old and gray, like him.

I didn’t want to wish for a life that’s twenty years in the future.

Mobsters live fast, die faster. I wanted to live my life as fully as I could, and part of that included going to Europe.

At the airport the next day, my father didn't show.

Typical.

My mother drove me herself, chatting idly on the way there. I’d barely listened, too excited about first class champagne and the women in France I was going to bed.

It was bad enough Papa wouldn’t let me take our jet.

“Your father would like it if you stayed,” she said quietly after she hugged me at the gate.

“Too bad,” I spat out, and the hurt on my mother’s face made my heart clench in my chest.

But she just waved, and I went to security and boarded the plane.

I was in France in bed with some woman and several empty bottles of wine when I got the call that they’d been killed.

I draw in a shaking breath, heading over to the bar and pouring myself a scotch.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until Liana kicks my shin.

“Hey, wake up,” she calls softly, and I pry open one eyelid.

The sunlight streams into my face and makes a spear of pain go through my temple.

“Ow, fuck,” I mumble, and Liana laughs.

“Tied one on last night?”

“Not really.”

I sit up, rubbing a hand across my face.

She solemnly hands me a water bottle.

“Figured you were hungover.”

“What gave me away?” I croak, and she smirks.

“The rumpled clothes you wore yesterday. The smell of scotch emanating from your pores. Maybe I’m psychic.”

“Cute,” I mutter, taking the water bottle and opening it, then chugging half of it in one gulp.

“What’s going on with you? You’re avoiding me and then... this.”

“I told you I’m not avoiding you.”

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, yeah, okay. You sent us out of the house last night.”

“Because I had a meeting.”