“I want to see him!”
I kissed Greta’s fingers then I straightened and walked toward the doorway where Remo was still trying to hold his son back.
The moment Nevio’s eyes met mine, his flared with hatred.
“We can talk but not when Greta can hear us.”
Nevio leaned forward in his father’s hold, his lips curling like a dog baring its teeth. “Now you’re making the rules in Las Vegas?”
Remo pushed him back and I stepped out of the room and closed the door behind my back.
Nevio ripped away from his father and got in my face. I shoved him away, and despite my desire to do so I didn’t reach for my gun. Greta had suffered enough. No matter how much I hated the crazy fucker in front of me, she loved him.
He was a crazy ass killer and his eyes would have scared the shit out of most people.
“Where is the bitch?”
I shook my head. I knew whom he was talking about, but this was Famiglia business. I still needed to call Dad and inform him about the Antonaci and Cressida situation. Who knew what else the old bastard had planned. Maybe he and his Traditionalists were on the verge of a revolt. We’d kill every single traitorous asshole with our bare hands if necessary.
Nevio grabbed my shirt. I clamped my hand down on his and jerked him forward, bringing us face to face as my patience ran thin. “Not now. Not in front of Greta’s door.”
“Tell me where Cressida is, or I’ll kill every fucking member of the Famiglia until I find her. The bitch will die.”
“She’s mine to kill.”
Nevio shook his head. “Greta wouldn’t want that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you care? Come on. You want her to have a reason to stop loving me. That would be your chance.”
“You’re right. If it were up to me, you’d be dead right now. Because all of this is your fucking fault, but Greta seems to care about you for some ridiculous reason, and as long as that’s the case, I won’t act against you. With a little luck, she’ll hate you once she finds out your wife ruined her fucking life, then all bets are off.”
I gave him a harsh smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Nevio has a point. This is our revenge to dish out. We want your wife and everyone who was involved. If the Famiglia wants peace, you’ll deliver them to us on a fucking silver platter, or we’ll march into New York and get them ourselves, but then you can kick peace goodbye.”
Nevio opened the door to Greta’s room. For a moment his expression softened and it was such a strange thing to see on his madman face that it creeped me out more than his murderous glare. “Greta needs you. I don’t know what she fucking sees in you. Do you really want to complicate things between you only because you insist on killing the whore yourself? If one of ours had attacked your sister or mother, you and your father would have insisted on dishing out punishment yourself. When my father and Nino found out about Kiara’s past, you allowed them to dish out punishment. This is our revenge. You know Greta wouldn’t want your wife’s blood on your hands. She’d probably want the whore to live.”
I looked down at her peaceful face, knowing he was right. Even after Cressida had taken the most precious thing from Greta, she’d still not want me to kill her. Greta was too kind. A new wave of burning rage crashed down on me. Cressida should have never touched Greta. This had never been about me or her goddamn heart. She’d wanted to protect her status in the Famiglia. She’d gone too far.
Remo didn’t say anything, only walked toward Greta and kissed her forehead. “Mia cara. The world will burn for you. We’ll burn it down.”
Remo straightened and fixed me with a hard stare. “Where? We’ll find her either way. It’s up to you if we kill every soldier standing in our way, and her whole goddamn family.”
Cressida was my wife. If the Falcone’s killed a future Capo’s wife, our soldiers would demand revenge and peace would become a distant dream.
“We don’t know if her entire family was involved. Her father yes, but I doubt her mother knew.”
Nevio scoffed. “Her family is at fault. They raised her. They obviously failed. They deserve death. End of fucking story.”
“Let me call my father.” This would be a hard pill to stomach. The Falcones wanted revenge, so did I. Nothing would ever do justice to what Greta had lost.
Dad picked up after the second ring. “Amo?”
“It was Antonaci. Cressida asked him to attack Greta. Several of his men were involved.”