THIN ICE |BOOK I |BWWM|

•ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4•

"Peace." I laughed.

A bitter illusion in this world. Right beside happiness.

I never got time to myself to think anymore, but peace is something I thought about often. It stays stuck like an unwavering stain.

My grandfather always told me that the strongest people are powerful enough to cause destruction with a puff of wind but wise enough to know how to aim the blow to hit only the intended target.

Mancini knew what would work not once, or twice, but three times. He murdered Terrance, my mother, then Julia. My father is weak to believe that type of betrayal can be glossed over with a piss-poor dinner party with no appetizers.

Peace?

No such thing.

Not as long I'm Don.

~~~~~~~~~

•OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA•

Matìas' POV

"Mancini is demanding territory in LA now, Matias."

"Well, that's out of the question. L.A's is Maniscalco jurisdiction. We can't just give it to him."

"Giuseppe is not asking! You know the alternative. We can't afford him telling Don Franco about the murders. Look, just hurry home. Your dad is gonna meet in an hour."

"Alright fine. I'll see you at the house, Seb."

I hung up as I started texting my son's tutor.

Sebastian was by far my favorite cousin of the family. He was younger than a lot of our men, but his father put a good head on his shoulders and the kid was a genius with finances. Since I spent most of my time in Jersey, Sebastian, along with my dad, headed the operations in California.

Wasted talent if you ask me. Okay, yes, our business put food on the table and Lamborghini keys in our hands, but he's got great potential to go far. He didn't deserve to be bogged down with this life, especially now.

We have control over Northern California and Southern Jersey, and yeah there's a cease fire between us, Maniscalco, and Mancini; but greed is a powerful monster.

Greed is dangerous.

Greed is destructive.

Greed is the reason why Giuseppe Mancini now had his foot on our family's necks and a third of our California territory under his control with a taste for more.

And we were stupid enough to let him take advantage of our mistakes for the sake of a tentative calm that can only last but so long.

My head hung over my phone screen as I neared the front counter of Severino's convenience store.

"Matías! What's up baby!" Noah, Severino's son, clasped his hand around mine and pulled me in for a hug, patting me on the back.

"It's been a minute, how's Jersey?" He asked as he grabbed my items and scanned them.

I shrugged, letting out something that could pass for a chuckle, "Same old, same old. How's here?"

"Ah, it ain't Jersey, but it's getting there. Giuseppe raised his percentage again."

My back straightened as my eyebrows furrowed, "How are you getting by?"

"We aren't."

Noah stretched the collar of his shirt revealing a row of stitches that ran diagonally from just below his collarbone to the middle of his chest.