Then, I’d found out that the sperm donor who’d shared my biology was rich beyond the dreams of avarice. That his organization had access to billions and that he lived the high life. My father. Sure, he might be a criminal, but I didn’t know anyone who wasn’t.
Besides, he was a master of that criminal underworld. The king of it, in fact. And I wanted to join him. I wanted to be given the same respect he was. I wanted to be accepted as his son, so I’d one day have the chance to become a king, too.
What was that old saying? It’s better to reign in hell rather than serve in heaven.
I yearned to have my chance to reign.
But then all my plans hit a snag. I worked for five long years earning the old man’s trust, only to have it blow up in my face. I’d gone to him, provided him with the proof of who I was, and he’d regarded me with undisguised disgust. Like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.
Just because my conception came about as a result of him paying my mother to have sex with him.
He’d acted scandalized. As if he hadn’t already been known for having an affair on the wife he’d supposedly adored. As if he didn’t have one bastard son sitting at his table already. As if he was innocent and a saint am
ong men.
Fucking hypocrite.
But the hypocrite couldn’t get away with ignoring the truth, ignoring me. I’d made him pay. I’d evened the scales.
Since he’d wronged me, I decided to wrong him. I created this narrative about him being a thief and sold it to the Bianchis. And they’d taken the bait. Hook, line, and sinker. Their accountant had been more than happy to have his bread buttered on both sides. Money making the world go around was a credo I’d lived by for a long time.
The Bianchis had attacked. Better, they’d had the balls to do it on the Varasso’s own property. I’d watched the whole debacle on the hidden cameras I had placed in a few key locations throughout their home. It’d been a thing of beauty to watch Donovan Bianchi gun down Angelo Varasso.
Now, the father who’d denied me was dead.
Still, having him taken out hadn’t felt as fulfilling as I’d thought it would. I felt like I needed to do more. I’d thought having Angelo removed would destabilize the Varasso hold over Philadelphia, but if anything, the younger generation seemed to flourish even more once he was gone.
The new leader and eldest son had taken the unconventional route of hiring a woman to run their drug importation business, and it’d paid off like a rigged slot machine. They were pulling in money hand over fist. More than they ever had before.
It pissed me off.
I’d believed the head of the snake had been Angelo. But as it turned out, it was actually Luca. My brother. As the heir apparent, he had been given everything I hadn’t. He’d been groomed and supported for the role of king his whole life. He’d been respected. Built up instead of torn down. Most irritating of all, he’d had my father’s love.
While I hadn’t been offered an ounce of it.
After becoming a runner for their family, I’d taken the opportunity to meet all my brothers. Marco with his bodybuilder physique and brusque personality. Alessandro with his glasses and geeky nature. Gabriel, the illegitimate son Angelo had legitimized. Unlike me. All of them had been spoiled like the brats I’d expected them to be.
But the worst of the worst had been Angelo’s firstborn.
Luca Varasso. The acclaimed Crown Prince. From day one, I’d taken special care to keep tabs on that mother fucker. To monitor everything he did. He’d been such an arrogant punk when I first laid eyes on him. He’d been exactly the sort of pompous ass who’d looked down their noses at me all my life.
I’d despised him. Reviled him.
A few years ago, I’d seen him fall for this girl and impregnate her. I’d witnessed the impact her death had on him. It’d changed him, nearly destroyed him. It’d made him far more interesting to watch. Seeing how broken he’d become and watching him suffer for so long gave me great solace.
It also gave me hope for the future.
It was too bad I hadn’t had Angelo killed during that time. If I’d made my move while Luca was still wallowing in his own pathetic misery over the lost mother of his child, I could’ve brought him and the rest of the family down in one fell swoop.
The Varasso’s vast empire would have been ripe for plunder, and I probably could’ve insinuated myself into their midst without raising any eyebrows.
Oh, well. Hindsight was twenty-twenty.
For a while there, my eldest brother had impressed me with how vicious he’d been. There’d been an abundance of people who’d gone suddenly missing, their remains never found. All thanks to him. Every one of them had been affiliated with the Randolph family, some low-level thugs.
The rumor was that they’d been the ones responsible for injuring Luca on the night his girl had died, but I wasn’t sure how much truth there was to that. All I knew was that about a year ago, he earned himself the reputation of being even more ruthless and cruel than our father. The oldest son’s name had even gone so far as to inspire fear among those with mafia ties.
Hell of a thing to add to his resume.