Stefano
I’m too pissed to see straight. That testa di cazzo had his f*****g paws all over Corey, and I still want to kill him.
And I’m pissed at myself for losing my s**t.
I didn’t want Corey to see me like this. Ever.
This is a side of myself I’d prefer didn’t exist—the Tacone temper. An inheritance from my father’s side, or perhaps simply nurtured into me through exposure to violence from a young age.
I’ve been trying to make Corey believe I’m something else. Something beyond a shady mafioso. Something sophisticated and trustworthy and f*****g upstanding.
But Junior had to roll into town with the whole pack of guidos and expose me for what I am.
One of them.
Chauvinistic, paternalistic, low-class seedy bastards who grope prostitutes and act like assholes.
“Hey,” Corey says softl
