Hated Vows (IL CONSIGLIO SCALERA #1) by Sophia Karlson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sophia Karlson
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.1 MB
- Price: Free
MATTEO
I’ve been summoned to this office many times. In the beginning, often
against my will. Now I could walk here blindfolded, which is a good thing.
One day it will be mine.
I knock on the double wooden door, and it opens almost immediately. A
nurse in scrubs ushers me in. She’s holding bagged blood samples in her
hand, and I blink. Blood on the floor, on the leather couches, splattered
against the walls—any day. Samples like that? Too fucking neat for the
Don, also known as my father.
Our eyes meet across the warm expanse of his office and a shiver of
premonition runs down my spine. Giuliano Scalera, Boston’s most
notorious, most hated, most dangerous Mafia Don, God of his own
underworld, has aged a decade in the month I haven’t seen him. The Don
drops his gaze to where he’s rolling down his sleeve and I eye the doctor,
who is packing away his stethoscope.
I know not to speak until we’re alone. This doctor and the nurse aren’t
our usual service providers. The faint scent of medicinal alcohol drifts over
as the Don shifts in his seat and stands with effort.
“Matteo Scalera. Mio figlio.”
My son. Countless times I’d wished I belonged to anybody else in the
world but this man. Literally anybody else. I still don’t understand how a
man could be so cruel to his own son, regardless of his own upbringing and
the life he chose to lead. My brothers didn’t escape his cruelty either, but I
learned early on to shield them where I could.
The doctor glances up at me as he takes his medical case in hand and
gives me a curt nod. “I’ll call you with the results. You’ll have a lot to
discuss.”
I step aside as the doctor makes his way out of the office. It’s an oldschool gentleman’s study, all wood and leather, with bookshelves lining one
wall. They are all just for show. The Scaleras aren’t exactly a scholarly
bunch. Center stage is the massive desk that hides built-in automatic
machine guns, ready to shoot the place to splinters. Above the massive
fireplace hang three sets of moose antlers, each shot at sniper range.
Another reminder not to fuck with Giuliano Scalera.
The door clicks behind me and as if he’s only become aware of my
entry now, Bruno, my dad’s aged mutt and constant companion, lifts his
head from where he’s napping on the Persian rug. Looking at his scruffy
coat, you’d think the dog is more coyote than anything else, but his size
suggests there’s some pit bull and mastiff blood in him.
As a young pup, he
was wild and kept chained to the Don’s chair. Bruno was too keen to bite,
which was why the Don got him in the first place. Now the mutt blinks in
my direction, eyes blind in old age, and rips a massive fart.
“Jesus Christ, Bruno,” the Don says as he sinks back into his leather
chair. “Spare us.”
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