Page 25 of The Last Vendetta

I’m not so sure about that.

“I can’t ignore what I heard, Giulia.” He implored me with an intense stare, begging me to heed his words wisely. “I just heard Giovanni telling Renzo to avenge Luka. And now Rocco is dead.”

I pressed my lips together, unable to persuade him to drop that line of thought. No, that line of assumptions. Renzo and I had talked about the possibility of my father being Luka’s killer, and I refused to think he would have changed his mind enough to come out and just kill Father like this.

And why would he poison Mother, too?

Nothing was adding up, and I was stuck to keeping my encounters with Renzo private. The last thing I needed on top of all this trouble and drama was anyone suggesting I was no longer a pure virgin to be married off.

“Let’s not rush to any assumptions,” I warned him gently.

“Are you defending Renzo?” he demanded sharply.

Shit. I could see how he’d notice my line of argument and get curious.

“No.” Yes. I licked my lips, searching for something better to say. “Let’s just calm down first. We’ll wait to see what Mother says. What comes up as the men search and watch the surveillance of the property.”

He nodded, but the tight scowl on his face suggested he wouldn’t relax anytime soon. Just like I had, he’d lost his leader. The head of the Acardi Family was gone, and without any guidance, we would all feel lost.

I had no clue what was coming next, but I could count on one awful fact.

With my uncle so quick to assume Renzo killed my father, I would never have a chance to spend time with my sexy enemy again. His rash words promised that I wouldn’t be able to look forward to being in Renzo’s company, no matter how much he hogged my attention and stayed in my mind.

Renzo couldn’t have killed Father.

I wanted to swear on it.

Because if he had, I’d lost my chance to know the exquisite pleasure that man—my enemy—could evoke in me.

And it felt like a crueler loss that I wouldn’t be able to overcome.

8

RENZO

Renzo

Two days after Luka’s funeral, Gio called me into his study.

I steadied my breath, trying to be patient as I headed there. He’d been on my ass all week with the same order—find Luka’s killer. As if I could’ve forgotten. And that was all I’d fucking done. The day after the funeral, I was on the road and speaking with capos. Checking in with everyone in the organization, both to let them know I was in charge now and would take the role seriously and to investigate who could have killed my brother.

Yesterday, I was doing more of the same. I’d lost too many hours speaking with a supposed spy the men had caught. He’d been playing a game with us, pretending that he knew valuable details about what really happened the night of Luka and Cecilia’s wedding, but he was just bluffing, trying to earn a little money.

Stupid.

No one bribed us and won. Once we realized he was messing with us and didn’t have any intel to identify Luka’s killer, I had the soldiers torture him until he begged for death.

I didn’t have time to deal with fools like that, and I didn’t have the patience to deal with my father now. But I went to see him regardless.

“You called?” I greeted.

“Rocco Acardi is dead.” He steepled his fingers together and eyed me closely.

What. The. Fuck? I froze, refusing to give away any indication of shock. I was a quick learner. In this position of being the next in line to rule the Bernardi Family, I couldn’t ever let anyone see what I was feeling. It was a hard lesson to acclimate to. I enjoyed being human, fun-loving and reckless. Now, I had to perfect that stupid blank mask I’d always hated on Luka.

“Dead?”

He nodded. “According to Isabella Acardi, he was killed.”

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