Page 54 of Filthy Little Games

“A little girl?” he repeats, glancing from me to Dre in confusion.

“Don’t fucking ask me. I have no clue what he’s talking about,” my cousin mutters.

Even though I’ve known Dre and Tristan my entire life, my first inclination is to not trust anyone with Zara’s secret. Not yet. It’s too…precious.

“Don’t worry about it. Just let me know if you see any little kids, about three years old. And if you do, don’t mention it to anyone. Snap a photo, send it to me, then delete it from your phone.”

“You want me to take a picture of a random kid like some pedo?”

“Yes.” I don’t tell them that once I find her, we’re going to plot to kidnap her. I haven’t even mentioned my plan to Zara yet. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case it fails.

How the hell did I become such a fool for this woman in less than two damn days?

“Jesus Christ,” Dre grumbles as he slips out of the car. “He’s lost his fucking mind.”

“I haven’t lost my mind,” I say to him when I get out. “Now shut up and go find your new fiancée.”

“This is going to end badly. I can already feel it going to hell,” Dre remarks before he walks away.

“He’s not wrong, boss. You know we wouldn’t be busting your balls if we weren’t concerned about what’s going on with you. It’s just, after Carmine was killed, we all got hit with the fucked up gun charges, and then you married this random chick. Even you have to admit that you haven’t been acting like yourself.”

“Because everything is fucked up!” I yell at him. “My brother is dead! Someone wants me dead or at worst, spending years in prison. And it’s got to be one of the fucking families coming for me.”

Or someone in my own family.

I keep that thought to myself, because they’ll think I really have lost my mind.

I trust my men with my life. I’ve taken every precaution to make sure we induct only the most loyal bastards around. Every member of our family must be an associate with close ties to an actual member for at least eight years with provable Italian heritage before they take the oath.

These rules have kept my men out of prison and on the streets earning for our family for over ten years now.

And it may all be crumbling around me.

If Emilio gave Izaiah the orders for the raid that killed my brother, he’s going to pay for it. I just need to find proof so that the other families won’t bat an eye when we retaliate.

If I can’t resolve this soon and it’s found out I killed Izaiah, thefive families could decide to take me out, hell, or my entire family, to replace me as head of the Council.

Since my father set up the Council, a Ferraro has led it. The boss of bosses, capo dei capi, the deciding vote and voice of reason. It’s how we’ve managed to keep the peace in New York City.

And if that peace is shattered, a lot of people are going to die a bloody death, including my family.

Dre beats us to the front door, where four of Rovinas guards are waiting. He appears to be arguing with them, arms flailing around.

While he’s preoccupied, I quietly say to Tristan, “If anything happens to me, get Zara out of the country with a new identity and make sure she gets access to my money.”

My cousin stares at me slack jawed. “What the hell are you talking about? You think we would let someone take you out during dinner?”

“Just tell me I can count on you to keep her safe and you won’t let anyone hurt her, no matter what you might hear.”

“I mean — ah… yeah, boss,” Tristan finally stammers just before Dre comes stomping back.

“They say we either hand over our phones and guns at the door or leave them in the car.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Tristan asks.

“It’s nothing we don’t ask of the Five Families when we have a Council meeting at Omerta.”

I can’t say I’m all that surprised that Emilio is being cautious after his son suddenly went missing.

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