Faust
Minutes later, I heard a thud and a crash in the house. Not a gunshot, but something like someone tripping over furniture. I took off my glasses and went outside to investigate.
Giulio stood in the entryway, picking up his phone from the tile. He shook it and cursed, and I could smell the whiskey from where I stood.
Sighing, I placed my hands on my hips. "Do you need help?"
He started at the sound of my voice, but didn't look at me. "Don't pretend you care."
Still angry, then.Figlio mio, there is no one I care about more than you.
"Cazzata," he stammered, straightening. "You care about your pride, your precious 'ndrina. Nothing else matters but tradition and money."
His face looked terrible. Red-rimmed eyes were glassy and devoid of their usual vivacity. His sk
