Gazing at me with the kind of cool composure that belies nothing, Declan says, “There was a vote this morning, Reyna.”
“Gianni said the vote had been postponed.”
“They told him it had been, but it went on without him.”
“Why?”
“Because they’d already decided he was no longer welcome in the family.”
My voice rising along with my anger, I say, “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means they were provided indisputable proof that Gianni has been funneling money away from the family operations for years, in addition to many other acts of disloyalty.”
I say flatly, “Let me guess. You provided them the proof.”
“Not me.”
“Who, then?”
“An interested third party.”
I can tell that’s all I’ll get there, so I change gears. “I need to speak with my brother about all this.”
After a pause, Declan says quietly, “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
It sounds like a threat.
The air goes static. My heartbeat surges. Every muscle in my body tenses.
Beside me, Quinn has also tensed, looking back and forth between us with his hands white-knuckled around the arms of his chair. Every cell in his body is ready to spring into action, primed to the crackling stress in the room.
It hits me with a blast like a nuclear explosion.
If Declan tried to harm me, Quinn would kill him.
His boss, his friend, a person he once described as the best man he’s ever known. He’d kill him to protect me.
The emotion I feel is so raw and overpowering, I have to inhale several slow breaths before I can speak again.
“Why not?”
“Because Gianni’s dead.”
When I leap from my chair, Quinn moves at the same time, jumping up to stand in front of me protectively with a blistering snarl and a threatening scowl in Declan’s direction.
Declan regards us with his eyebrows raised and a look of incredulity on his face. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you two?”
Quinn growls, “This woman could be carrying my child. If you want to get to her, you’ve got to go through me first!”
Declan’s laugh is short and astonished. He looks at me as if he’s wondering what kind of spell I’ve put on his friend, then looks back at Quinn. He shakes his head and exhales.
“Sit down, you barmy bastards. I wasn’t threatening anyone. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’ve got a mutiny on my hands. I knew today would be shite.”
He reclines back into his big leather captain’s chair with a sigh and waves a hand at us like we’re being ridiculous.
“Sit!”
Quinn looks to me for direction. I nod, and we both carefully take our seats.
Declan says crossly, “For fuck’s sake, lad, don’t be staring at me with such a black glower! Last I heard, I’m still in charge of you, so show some bloody respect!”
Grinding his molars, Quinn grudgingly settles into his chair.
Declan cuts his gaze to me and says accusingly, “What have you done with him? He’s even more strung out than usual!”
“He’s fine. Let’s get back to business, please.”
He mutters to himself, “I need a bloody drink and it’s not even ten o’clock in the bloody morning.” Then, overly dramatic, he says, “Now that we’re all civilized adults again, I’ll continue.”
He clicks around on the laptop for a second, searching for something. Then a video begins to play.
Gianni is tied to a chair in the middle of an empty room. His eyes are closed. His head lolls to one side. His face is bruised and bloody. More blood stains the front of his white dress shirt and the floor beneath the chair.
I lift my hand to my mouth, inhaling sharply.
Declan says, “I won’t show you the worst of it. Alessandro sent this over after he told me about the vote.”
A man walks into the frame. It’s Massimo, smoking a cigarette as he circles Gianni. He says, “So you stole money from us. Your own family.”
Gianni mumbles something incoherent. Massimo kicks the chair, and Gianni jumps.
“Yes. I did. But you have to believe me, I—”
Massimo kicks the chair again. Gianni falls silent.
“Don’t bother with excuses. We know about the money. We know about the stolen product. We know about the bribes you paid to try to keep everybody’s mouth shut. But somebody always talks, Gianni. You should know that by now. Somebody always talks.”
Massimo paces, shaking his head in disbelief. “And your own daughter? Ma dai! You set up your own daughter to get kidnapped? That’s just fucking sick. Who does that? I’ll tell you who. A big piece of shit.”
He kicks the chair again. Gianni moans, babbling apologies. Then Massimo looks right into the camera.
“Hey, shitbag. Tell your sister what you had in mind for her, eh? Tell her how you were gonna let a bunch of cowboys mess around with her before they slit her throat. How you promised them they could use her.”
A low, dangerous rumble goes through Quinn’s chest, but other than a deep sense of unreality, I feel nothing at all.
Massimo turns away from the camera, smoking and circling again. “We got that driver, by the way. Made him talk same way we did you. Mannaggia a te! Hope you didn’t pay them too much money. What a fucked up job that was. Ah, well. Any last words?”
From beneath his jacket, Massimo pulls out a pistol.
Gianni starts shrieking. “My daughter ran away with a Mexican! She’s useless! Nobody cares what happens to her! And my sister’s a bloodthirsty whore!”
I say softly, “Oh, Gianni. You always were a sad little prick.”
I reach over and stop the video. It cuts off just as Massimo is raising his gun.
I sit with my eyes closed for a while, listening to the silence in the room and thinking of my brother. Trying to remember a time when we were close.
The memory doesn’t come. Gianni and I were related by blood, but no other ties of friendship or love ever bound us.
As with Enzo, I was nothing more to him than a thing to be used for personal gain.
I feel Quinn’s touch on my arm and open my eyes.
He murmurs, “You okay?”
I’m not sure how to answer that, so I don’t. I look at Declan instead.
“My mother?”
“She’s on a plane home to New York.”
I nod, thinking. “So the bottom line, if I understand it correctly, is that my brother betrayed the Cosa Nostra and his own blood and was shot because of it.”
“Aye.”
I nod again. “And there was a vote for the new capo this morning.”
“Aye.”
“And you’re asking me to believe a male-dominated institution hundreds of years old just decided out of the blue they should have a woman as their leader for the first time.”
“The vote was split. Not everyone was on board.”
“Let me guess. Massimo.”
Declan lifts a shoulder. “Some lads still aren’t living in the twenty-first century.”
“Why didn’t they just elect someone else? Alessandro, for instance?”
“They can explain better themselves, lass, but you’re the one who stood up in front of four hundred witnesses and God himself and vowed to love and obey this nutty bugger here so you could save your niece from getting shot. You’re the one who also spared Juan Pablo from getting shot, and guess whose uncle Alvaro now only wants to make an accord with the woman who saved his dear nephew’s life?”