Page 15 of The Wages of Sin

“Bonetti is an old-school veteran. He’s a popular guy.” Gabriel said. “The men aren’t going to like us not giving him a chance to defend himself.”

“And that’s why the men aren’t going to find out his death was an inside job. Why do you think I asked Dorian to join us for this meeting?” Sal turned around again to face me. “Do it tonight. Make it look like an accident.”

Direct orders given from the head of the family—I might technically be a D’Angelo, but I was also a simple soldier. There was nothing I could do but nod.

Matteo and Gabriel were a different story, though. Not only were they blood, they ranked much higher up the power pyramid.

“Kill him tonight, and we’ll never find out what was in that envelope,” Matteo argued. I could sense his frustration with his uncle even though, like always, he was doing his best to keep a handle on his temper.

“What? Do you think it was his grandmother’s carbonara recipe?” Sal scoffed. “It was family business. What else could it be?”

“But if we don’t know exactly what he’s been telling the feds, then I can’t get our lawyers ready to defend us against it.”

Sal shook his head dismissively. “Let me worry about that.”

“It isn’t wise to dismiss Matteo’s advice,” Gabriel broke in. I could already see the flames of anger starting to burn behind his dark brown eyes. “He’s got a head for these things. Papà knew it and listened to him. You should, too.”

“Well, your papà ain’t the boss of this family anymore,” Sal said. “I am, and that means I make the decisions. Got it?”

The hair on the back of my neck bristled at hearing my adoptive father’s legacy dismissed so casually.

“Got it,” Matteo said reluctantly, managing to keep his cool while Gabriel visibly seethed.

“Good.” And with that, Sal stood up from his position on the center sofa and turned toward me. “Dorian, I’ll be expecting a report tomorrow morning.”

I nodded, keeping my expression as neutral as possible as Sal said good night to his nephews and strode out of the study, leaving the doors wide open behind him.

The twins stared at each other over the table for a long moment. Together from the very beginning and sharing the same face, they’d always had an unspoken connection I envied. Eventually, they turned to me, and I gestured for them to come closer.

We never used to think twice before speaking openly in Giuseppe’s study, but a lot had changed in the last nine months. With his killer still out there somewhere, paranoia ran wild—especially with Sal.

Maybe it was because he feared he was next on the hit list, or maybe it was because, deep down, he knew he was a much less beloved boss than his brother. Either way, it was clear the man was desperate to root out the traitor, and desperate men did desperate things—like bug their own houses.

And given the way both Gabriel and Matteo dropped their voices down to a whisper once they were next to me, they thought the same thing, too.

“Something’s off,” Matteo said, his voice barely loud enough to be heard, let alone be picked up by any mics that might be in the room.

“No shit,” Gabriel replied. “You hear the way he talked about papà? What the fuck was that?”

“It was a man trying to appear stronger than he actually is,” I said. Over the years, I’d heard all kinds of big talk from men I had backed into a corner. You never knew how someone would react to a threat. Some crumbled and cried, others puffed up.

“Whatever it was, it’s obvious he doesn’t want anyone talking to Bonetti,” Matteo said. “Not the feds, not the family, and especially not us.”

“You think Sal’s hiding something?” Gabriel asked.

Matteo thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t know, but I know who does.”

“Joey Bonetti.” Gabriel nodded before looking over at me.

“Well, your uncle gave me an order to get rid of him,” I said, “but he didn’t say anything about not asking him any questions first.”

“You think you can make him talk?” Matteo asked.

Gabriel laughed before clapping his hand over my shoulder. “You kidding? Our brother here could make a mute man sing like Pavarotti.”

And he was right. I could.

Chapter Six

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