11. Basilio
Basilio
I walked through my home entrance a little after two A.M. After dropping Wynter off at Yale, I sped down the dark road back to New York City.
Her scent still lingered in the car. It was like a drug to me.
Intoxicating and, at the same time, soothing.
I never thought there’d be light in my life.
All I had ever known was the piercing darkness that was my life.
Cruelty that surrounded the Syndicate world.
Each Kingpin was known for it, and I was no different.
From a young age I fought against becoming him . My father. His blood was my blood. His monsters were my monsters. Our cruelty was like poison. It ran through our veins until it infected your heart.
More monster than man. It was what people whispered behind my back. Behind every DiLustro’s back.
Yet, in Wynter’s presence all I felt was the warmth of sunshine. Even under the night sky, I swore her golden halo projected sun.
“What are you still doing up?” I asked when I spotted Dante with his feet on the coffee table, watching baseball.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Watching the Yankees lose to the Cubs.”
I scoffed. “You wish.”
He reached over to the side table, picked up a piece of paper and threw it at me.
“Deed to The Eastside,” he retorted, his eyes back on screen. “Your fucking father showed up.”
My shoulders tensed. He was supposed to stay out of that club.
Fuck! I hated that fucking nosey bastard.
He was so paranoid about everyone, including his own family, overthrowing him and ending his pathetic life that he had to insert himself into everything.
Of course, he wasn’t wrong when it came to his family. We hated his guts, me most of all.
“Don’t worry; Liam actually let him believe you already picked up the deed.”
“Why?”
“I guess he hates us less than him,” he muttered. I grabbed a bottle of water and sat next to him, stretching my legs. “Were you out there getting your dick wet?”
I didn’t bother answering him. I wouldn’t talk about Wynter. She wasn’t like other women. Anything that would pass between her and I was only for the two of us to know. She was mine alone.
“So the blonde is it for you, huh?” Dante asked when I remained quiet.
“Yes.”
Wynter was not up for discussion, regardless that there hadn’t been anything I kept away from Dante, his brother Priest or my sister.
The four of us were the only family I ever counted on, despite the distance.
Emory stuck to Las Vegas, as far away from our father and uncle, Priest ruled Philly and Dante ruled Chicago.
We all hated our fathers. Their sadistic ways. And most of all, we hated knowing we’d become them. Though Gio, my own father, won the first spot in cruelty. At least my uncle’s cruelty didn’t extend to his family. My father’s did.
For a while now, I feared I’d already become him. Until the day Wynter fell into my arms. Literally. The way she looked at me breathed hope and light into my soul. Corny, yes. But fuck it, the way she made me feel was intense. Possessive. She was the first woman that made me feel .
I took a swig of water, the scent of Wynter’s arousal still on my fingers. I almost didn’t want to take a shower, so I could keep her scent on me.
Tomorrow , I calmed myself. I’d see her again tomorrow.
“Did you pick up on Liam’s comment yesterday?” I asked Dante, setting the topic of Wynter aside.
Before Liam handed over the deed to The Eastside Club, we met with Liam in his office building.
He’d gotten part of the property I owned on the westside in exchange for the club.
Unfortunately, my father came along and made things more tense than they usually were.
Liam hated his guts and his comment to my father alluded to the past.
It was you who started this clusterfuck between our families. Those were his exact words. DiLustros and Brennans never got along, but I never heard of my father starting it.
“Which one?” Dante snickered. “Your father and Liam behaved as if they were ready for a battle. We’re lucky they didn’t draw guns.”
He was right. Those two hated each other's guts for as long as I could remember. They didn’t even bother hiding their animosity.
“Liam calling out Father for starting this war.” It had lingered in the back of my mind ever since. Liam Brennan was our enemy but he was a fair man. Unlike my own father.
Dante’s dry gaze flickered my way. “They’re probably keeping some secrets.
Worried to show us their true colors.” Sardonic breath left me.
It was too late for that. I’d seen my father’s true colors when I was five and he killed my mother in front of me.
“If I had to guess, I’d say Liam’s comment probably has something to do with the fact that Gio shot Brennan’s sister. ”
I frowned. “What?”
“Gio shot Liam’s sister,” Dante explained.
“No, I didn’t know that.” There was barely any information on Liam’s sister. No pictures. Killian was his adoptive son but even his information was hard to come by. “How do you know?”
Dante shrugged. “Priest. You know he likes to dig shit up. Plus he overheard Father’s conversation with Uncle Gio.
Gio didn’t want to support your deal with Brennan and debated dragging it in front of the Syndicate.
” Fuck, that would have been risky. Especially with the older members, since they were stuck in their ways.
“Your father’s hate for the Brennans goes beyond normal rivalry.
But Father convinced him to take it and put to rest the entire business of shooting Liam’s sister. ”
Jesus Christ!
“Did Priest happen to overhear why he would shoot a woman?” I questioned. Regardless that she was a Brennan, she was a woman. Killing women and children was frowned upon. Not unless they’ve done something to compromise us. Dante shook his head. “Of course not. It wouldn’t be that easy.”
“If I had to guess, it had to be about the power,” Dante speculated. “It’s the only thing that he cares about.”
Our fathers still run the Syndicate in name only.
Over the last eight years, Dante, Priest, and I had worked at increasing our influence, power, and wealth.
Even Emory. For the past three years, she ruled Las Vegas, building the Syndicate’s power there.
In my father’s world, it was either sink or swim.
And he applied that to my sister too. I protected her as much as I could but it wasn’t enough.
She had to become strong and ruthless. So I helped her become that, with Dante’s and Priest’s assistance, and she exceeded our expectations.
She made me so goddamn proud. Despite what our father did to her, she came out on top. He’d pay one day for what he’d done to her. I vowed it to her and had been working at slowly clawing away at the things he cared the most about.
Power. Money. Connections.
Our power and wealth now superseded our fathers by tenfold.
Unfortunately, there was a certain hierarchy and patriarchy in our circles that was followed.
And killing your own father was frowned upon.
Very frowned upon. So I kept looking for other options.
I wasn’t beyond hiring a killer, the problem was finding someone you could trust not to turn on you.
“How did Liam’s sister die?” I asked him.
“I was curious and looked it up,” Dante muttered and by the tone of his voice, I knew I wouldn’t like what was to follow. “She died after getting shot. Her unborn child didn’t make it either.”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“It’s odd though,” Dante continued, his voice low as if he tried to give respect to the woman we’ve never met.
“There was no mention of her getting shot or anything. According to the official paperwork, her death was an accident. Not a single picture of her anywhere. You’d think Liam would have gone full force to lock Gio up.
If Priest wouldn’t have told me about the conversation between your father and mine, we wouldn’t have known.
There are no traces of her anywhere on the web. ”
“Brennan should have killed him,” I grumbled.
It would have saved us all so many years of brutality and pain. To my mother. My younger sister. It was the reason my mother left. She couldn’t handle it. Even more because she didn’t want to see her son grow up into a monster like his father. So she took Emory and ran.
Like a thief in the night she left, except it wasn't night. It was the middle of the day when she dropped me at the park and left me there. A head start that didn't save her. Father found her and killed her, then brought my infant sister back. She should have known a head start wouldn’t have mattered. There was no hiding from him. Nowhere to run that he wouldn’t find her.
Albeit, she was right to worry about me because I’d become just like my father.
I killed my first man at twelve. And I still remembered that first kill.
The way hot, sticky blood stained my hands, the scent of copper and piss mixed with the sound of the man’s screams in the damp basement.
I was shaped into a monster by my father’s fists, blades, and harsh words.
Power is offering no mercy, only brutality. That had been my bedtime story since my mother’s death.
Staring at the rerun of the baseball game, both Dante and I lost in our thoughts, ghosts came chasing, lurking in the darkness of our minds. Except I saw the light in the form of a young woman.
Wynter’s light shone in my darkness brighter than the moon in the night sky. And I’d keep it that way. I’d never let anyone extinguish that light. If they’d try, they’d earn my wrath, and I wouldn’t hesitate to use the brutality I was taught.