Page 57 of Of Oaths and Secrets

Not that Bonnano will ever hear a word of this, if I can help it.

"It was my idea," Leo blurts out too quickly—he's lying, and it’s painfully obvious.

I lean in, my voice dropping again, colder now. "Don't bullshit me. This is beyond stupid, even for you. Who whispered this nonsense in your ear?"

Leo stiffens, eyes darting to the dead man on the floor. "It was just to make more money," he says, almost pleading. "To show that I could make this place thrive, that I wasn’t a failure like father expected."

"Ah, yes." I glance at the body again. "Well, you’ve clearly succeeded in making an impression."

Leo looks down, and for a moment, the bravado crumbles. The fear is back, the same fear I saw in him as a boy. But it’s too late for sympathy.

"Let me make one thing clear," I say, my voice low and steady. "You don’t move drugs in my territory without permission, especially not with someone outside our circle. You know better. So why did you do it?"

Leo hesitates, his lip quivering. “I thought I could handle it.”

"And now you’ve got a dead body on your hands and Fredo tied to a chair." I finish my drink in one long gulp and set the glass down, my patience officially gone. "Do you even understand how badly you’ve fucked up?"

Leo’s silence is answer enough.

"Good," I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face, “because I’m going to help clean this up. But this is the last time, Leo. Do you understand me?”

“You will?” His voice wavers with disbelief and hope.

I roll my eyes. "Of course I will, fucking idiot." I cross the room, finally removing the gag from Fredo. The man takes a deep breath before spitting in my brother’s direction. “Wait until Capo Lucchese hears about this.”

I pause. Fredo’s one of my father’s most loyal men—planted here to watch over Leo, keep him in line. His words hang heavy in the air, a reminder of the tightrope I’m walking.

I inhale deeply, steadying myself before I turn to Fredo. "Did you kill him?"

"Course I did!" Fredo snaps, glaring at Leo. "Fucking Hispanic acting like he owns the damn place—taking liberties with the girls. And when I called him out, he pulled some bullshit about being in business with the boss."

I throw Leo a glare, watching him squirm. He’s pale now like he’s just realized the gravity of his situation. Fredo’s right—this could unravel everything.

"And that’s enough reason to kill him?" I ask, even though I know it’s hypocritical as hell coming from me. I’ve killed men for less.

"He came to this traitor’s office and drew a gun on me!" Fredo says, raising his voice.

Ah, fuck. That’d do it.

“Listen,” I start, glancing between them, “we can all agree this was a mistake, and we can move on.”

Fredo cocks his head, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Move on?” He grimaces. "Who are you? Where is the feared and revered Reaper right now? You, of all people, preaching trust and loyalty above all, and you’ll let your brother walk out of this scot-free?"

I glance at Leo, whose face has drained of all color. Fredo’s right—I should take Leo to our father and let him handle this. And I already know how it would end. My father’s been waiting for the right moment to deal with Leo. This would be the perfect excuse, the golden opportunity to either shun him or kill him outright.

And that’s the problem. Leo’s my brother, but turning him over to my father would be handing him a death sentence. I’d be offering him up on a silver platter.

I clench my fists, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Fredo will not keep it shut.

“You’re right. I am The Reaper.” I reach for the gun in my holster and point it to his head, shooting him dead before he could blink.

“Leo stares at me wide-eyed, the awe in his voice grating on my nerves. "You killed him."

"I did," I say coldly, my gaze steady on him. "For you."

For a second, he looks like he might thank me again, but I cut him off. "Don't thank me. Not yet. I killed a man who didn’t deserve to die—not by my hand—for you. And now, you will clean this shit up."

I bang on the door, and Paolo walks in, his eyes immediately darting to Fredo’s lifeless body. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t say aword. That’s what I like about him—he knows when it’s time to shut up.

---