Black umbrellas dotted the cemetery like ravens, business Manhattan gathered to pay respects to one of its kings. I stood at the head of Giuseppe's casket, playing a role I'd only inherited just few months ago: the grieving granddaughter-in-law. The primary mourner. The heir.Rain spattered against the mahogany casket, beading on its surface before sliding off like tears. I felt the stares of the crowd burning into my back—the outsider who'd somehow usurped the rightful heir. Daniel should've been standing where I was. The blood grandson. The one who'd grown up in Giuseppe's shadow, who'd spent his life waiting for this moment.Instead, he stood fifteen feet away, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the casket."We gather today to celebrate the life of Giuseppe Antonio Russo," the priest intoned, his voice carrying over the patter of rain against umbrellas. "A man who built empires from nothing but determination and vision."Vincent stood at my right, a black umbrella held steadily over both of
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