Page 80 of Sinful Sacrifice

I’d like one day where there’s no another issue.

Where it’s sunshine and I can spend the day with Pippa without a million problems crawling around my brain like a virus.

I raise a brow. “What’s that?”

He drops his feet off the desk and sits up straight. “Vinny is out of control. He’s acting too reckless.”

“Is there ever a time when he’s not being reckless?”

Everyone knows the family's downfall will begin when Vincent steps down or dies and Vinny takes control of the family. I’ve overheard men discussing exit strategies to leave the country when that day comes.

Vinny is good at what he does, but he’s also too impulsive.

He has bigger plans beyond running the Lombardi family.

He aspires to be the king of New York.

To dethrone Cristian Marchetti.

He runs his mouth too much about it.

Anyone with a functioning brain understands Cristian is the worst person to go to war with.

“If we’re talking reckless, can I speak freely?” I ask him.

He provides a you have the floor gesture, and I gulp down my whiskey.

“You need to end things with Giana Marchetti.”

Antonio has a secret.

A secret that’ll take us to war if Vinny doesn’t.

One that’ll piss off Cristian Marchetti far more than Vinny singing his own rendition of Simba’s “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King.”

“Cristian will kill you,” I remind him for what feels like the thousandth time.

Any threat to his daughter is something Cristian will never tolerate. Not that I believe Antonio would ever intentionally hurt Gigi. From what I’ve heard, he has killed for her. But not many people, possibly including her, knows that.

I learned about his affair with Gigi when he dragged me to Italy with him, Amara, and Clara. We had a good trip, but there was no relaxing for me when I found out why we were there. He chased down Gigi at her aunt’s in Tuscany. He’d hang out with Amara during the day and then wander off to fuck Gigi at night.

Antonio rises to his feet, strolls to the drink cart, and pours himself another. I shake my head, declining his refill offer.

“Keep an eye on my brother,” he instructs me. “Rumor has it, Cristian is fucking his ex.”

I flex my hand around my glass. “We might be fucked.”

He nods. “I’m positive we’re fucked.”

Revenge is so fucking sweet.

It’s my favorite goddamn flavor.

“You did a great job at hiding,” I tell Herman, clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth and circling him. “But you should’ve known it was only a matter of time before we found you.”

“I didn’t know who you were!” he cries out, drool falling from his mouth. He wiggles in his chair, struggling to break free from the tape restraining him in it. His movements become more frantic with each second. Even if he breaks the tape, he can’t run with zip-tied ankles.

Or with the leg I shot a bullet through five minutes ago.

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