Page 12 of Filthy Little Games

I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for it. My father would disown me for fucking up so bad.

And I can’t help but think that the reason Carmine’s dead is because thecretinocops thought he was me. I don’t buy that they were threatened by the gun in his hand. Those assholes shot him as soon as they came through the door and kept shooting him.

And now, I’m going to find every fucker responsible for his death and make them pay, starting with the cop who killed Carmine, then the one who wanted to put a bullet in my head.

“Cazzo!” I slam my fist into the concrete wall of the holding cell we’ve been crammed into for three goddamn days while waiting for our arraignment. Now my knuckles are going to be nice and bloody.

“Baxter said he thought he could have us out on bail by this afternoon,” Dre whispers from the bench behind me.

“I don’t give a shit about bail! Carmine is dead! Jasper is dead! Someone set us the fuck up! I’m going to find them all and snap every bone in their goddamn bodies!”

As soon as we get out of this hellhole, I need to make plans to bury my brother. That’s not something I ever thought I’d have to do.

I’m the goddamn boss of bosses. If anyone should be dead, it’s me. I’m the one who calls all the shots, who runs the underworld.If someone wants my crown, they should’ve fucking killed me to get it, not Carmine.

People already think I’m the angel of death, and I’m about to unleash hell all across New York City.

Once Carmine’s been laid to rest, I’ll meet with the police Commissioner to find out why the fuck he didn’t warn me about the raid, and get the names of every cop at the bar and who put them up to it.

Then…then I’m going to find the fucking woman responsible for setting all of this into motion.

I won’t let this insult, this tragedy, go unpunished. Even if it means burning everything my family built to the ground.

“I’m sorry about your brother, Mr. Ferraro.” Baxter McMillan, the best criminal defense attorney in the state, sits down at the table next to me in the courtroom.

“Those fuckers came in guns blazing and murdered him!” I tell Baxter, hating that I’m required to sit around and wait for the judge when I should be by my brother’s side, saying a final goodbye.

“That’s what several witnesses said as well,” Baxter remarks quietly. He eyes my orange jumpsuit with a wince. “But I’ve already seen the body cam footage. It’s surprising how the officers’ cameras were all recording for once, and for the DA to be so willing to turn it over to me as soon as I filed my Notice of Appearance as your attorney. I’m sorry to say it, but Carmine pulled out his gun clear as day, giving the officers the green light to fire at him.”

“It was instinct. When the gunshots went off, how could we know it was the cops? They shot first,” I explain, remembering thatI would’ve pulled out my own damn Glock if not for the woman I was busy trying to cover.

How ironic is it that my first instinct was to protect her when she’s the one who’s responsible for my brother’s death?

“It’s all messy,” Baxter agrees. “But the DA already has everything she needs to go to the Grand Jury and indict you and your three men for felonies. They have video of you all wearing or holding your guns in plain sight. Guns that are now in evidence with your fingerprints all over them and no serial numbers. You’re looking at serving time no matter which way this goes. A plea deal is damn unlikely with this new DA.”

“Fuck,” I mutter as I have to lift both of my cuffed wrists to shove my fingers through my hair. I don’t really give a shit about a felony, but if me and the other three heads of the family are put away for a year, our entire empire will crumble. Not to mention the consequences for Dre who is required to keep a spotless record. “Dre can’t lose his law license.”

“I know this isn’t the best time for this discussion, but there’s no point in dancing around the truth,” Baxter says. “You four are fucked. Not to mention that you need to watch your back once you’re out on bail. Whoever set you up may have wanted to kill you in the chaos, but they had to settle with getting you charged with shit you can’t possibly squirm out of.”

“Have the others had arraignments? Made bail yet?”

“Tristan, Andre, and Lorenzo have all just been released on a hundred-thousand-dollar bail. I’m expecting the same for you.”

Good. I have to get out of these goddamn handcuffs and get to work. “How much time are we talking about?” I ask him.

“The charges are resisting arrest, which we can probably get dropped. But not the second-degree criminal possession of a firearm. That’s a Class C felony with a minimum mandatory three-and-a-half years and a max of fifteen years.”

“Fifteen years? This is bullshit. Those cops should be in prisonfor killing Carmine!” What kind of pussy can’t face me like a man and pull the trigger himself but sends a woman to set me up? I can’t wait to fucking find out.

As if reading my mind, Baxter clears his throat. “Mr. Ferraro, as your attorney, I must advise you that while you’re out on bail, if you’re brought up on any new charges, you may not get released again until you finish serving time on the gun charges.”

“I know.” While I wait to say fuck it and blow everyone’s heads off, I can’t risk jumping to any conclusions.

I owe it to Carmine to do this the right way, to play it smart and take down every single individual responsible for his death in a way that won’t ever be traced back to me. My brother wouldn’t want me or anyone else in our family to serve a life prison sentence for getting vengeance for him.

“Accidental” deaths happen all the time thanks to car wrecks, fires, plane crashes, and falls from balconies. If done carefully, making murders look like suicides is fairly easy as well.

But apparently, we’re going to have to work fast before the four leaders of the family are all thrown in prison for at least three-and-a-half fucking years.

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