Page 49 of Deadly Wolf Bite

Grey levels a look at him. “Call it a hunch.”

Dom scowls.

“Anthony,” Franco prompts, “considering you recently gained a seat on the city council—which provides direct access to the treasurer’s books—would you care to respond to this receipt?”

“I suggest you start by asking the treasurer himself,” Anthony snaps. He glares at one of Franco’s generals watching from the second row. “Conrad? What the fuck is this bullshit you’re trying to pull?”

“I’ve complied with all regulatory requests for the audit Franco ordered on my office,” Conrad says. “Any discrepancies were investigated by a third-party agency.”

“What agency?” Anthony demands. “Give me the name.” His face is even redder than before, which is a feat in itself.

“That information’s sealed to protect bias,” Franco says. “And for their safety.” He looks at Vincenzo pointedly before nudging Anthony roughly. “That money was earmarked for schools. You stole from children so you could take more than the fair share given to you.”

“I didn’t fucking do this,” Anthony says, but Franco ignores him.

“This city gave you a home,” Franco says. “A family. Brothers. Not to mention the kind of money and power most people fucking dream about. And you used it to steal. To betray your brothers. And to implicate me in the process.”

“I told you, it’s not what it looks like,” Anthony stutters. He’s indignant but also clearly terrified. There’s no way to disprove Franco’s accusations, and he knows it.

Even I know it.

Shit.

This is going to be very bad.

I glance at Ramsey. I’m only able to make out his profile from this angle, but I can see that he’s glued to the sight of his father standing on the dais. His skin is so pale it’s slightly green, and he doesn’t even appear to be breathing.

“We are only as strong as our weakest member,” Franco declares.

He folds and pockets the receipt. This time, after reaching into his coat, he comes away holding a gun and aims it right at Anthony’s head.

“Fuck,” Grey growls.

“Grey,” Mia hisses, leaning forward in her seat, “what does he think he’s doing?”

“He’s taking out the trash.” Dom grins just as the gun goes off.

Anthony falls face-first, blood and brain matter coating the back of his head.

Someone screams, the sound muffled in my ears after the loud shot.

“No,” Ramsey roars, leaping from his seat and rushing for the stage. Rocco and Charlie manage to grab him by the shoulders, hauling him back.

Another scream.

Then Grey is touching me, pulling my face toward his so that my eyes are forced to focus on him rather than the dead general, whose brains are now located outside his body.

“Lexi,” Grey says, his voice far away. “Lexi.”

He squeezes my cheeks with his hands until the sensation brings me back to myself.

“Lexi.” This time, his tone is sharp and almost unkind.

I blink.

“Stop screaming,” he says, his dark, enigmatic eyes anchoring me.

“I wasn’t—” I frown. My throat is raw. Another scream builds, but I manage to swallow it.