Part 3 Prologue - Dario Dragonetti and Serena Roberts

Dario

One Year After The ‘Ndrangheta Ambush

“Fuck sakes, Dario! Pay attention to this shit!” My brother, Nico, calls out as I help him with his physio. I had again been daydreaming, and he almost slipped as I helped him through the parallel bars.

“Sorry, Nico,” I mumble and help him finish his set and sit him down in his wheelchair.

“This is the worst fucking thing for a mafioso; being unable to walk.” He says, taking a swig of his water bottle.

I had to admit that what he says is true; I could not imagine being incapacitated like this. Our line of work requires us to be quick and mobile, so I get Nico’s anger and frustration at not being able to do what he was born to do.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so spaced out lately?” Nico asks, staring at me. Was it that obvious?

I shrug, “Dante wants to make me underboss when I turn 21 after you and Sylvana take over Long Island.” I say, recalling my brother’s words.

Nico grins and slaps my shoulder, “Fucking Underboss of New Yor