Page 66 of The Deal

“Yeah, right.”

“True story,” I state.

“That makes no sense. I’ve seen your men carrying, so it’s not like you don’t have access to guns.”

“That’s right, I do. I held my first real gun when I was fourteen, and I swore it would be my last.”

“Why?” she asks, probing further.

I should tell her it’s none of her business, but I find myself doing the exact opposite. “My father made me shoot a man between the eyes that day. It was the first and last time. I don’t have the stomach for that kind of thing.”

I hear her gasp before saying, “You killed a man when you were fourteen years old?”

I probably shouldn’t have admitted that to her—it’s not something I ever talk about—but I feel like there are already too many secrets between us.

I clear my throat. “Yes. When my father sensed I didn’thave the guts to go through with it, he pointed his gun at the side of my head, giving me a choice, either him or me.”

“Oh my God, Alex,” she whispers. “That’s awful.”

I shrug. “It is what it is. To my father’s great shame and disappointment, I strive to be nothing like him. That’s the kind of vicious lifestyle he chooses to live—kill or be killed—and I don’t want any part of it.”

She clambers off the bed and comes up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her cheek against my back. “I’m sorry he put you in a position like that. What a terrible thing to do to your own child.”

“I distanced myself from that world for a reason,bella,” I tell her as those damn fucking images of large brown pleading eyes flash through my mind.

I drag my hand down my face, trying to push those thoughts away. A part of me wants to pull free from her hold, but the rest of me craves the comfort she offers.

The last thing I need is for Chloe to see that fucked-up, broken side of me.Can she feel my heart pounding against my chest?I can’t stand showing anyone my weaknesses. It’s something that has been drummed into me since I was a small boy. In my father’s eyes, exposing my vulnerabilities makes me less of a man.

“Do you think your family was involved in offing that Mortelli guy?”

I open the door and pull out one of the burner phones I store inside. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, but my gut tells me they were.

I stride down towards the rear of my property before dialling my brother’s number. Although I’ve never found a listening device at my residence, it doesn’t mean it’s notbugged. I was raised to be cautious and to never underestimate the opposition.

“Alex,” Dante says as soon as he answers. “Give me a minute … I’ll call you back.”

“Okay,” I reply before he ends the call.

Like me, he has been groomed into this lifestyle, so I know he’ll return my call on a secure line.

I rake my fingers through my hair, pacing back and forth, praying my family wasn’t reckless enough to go there. The last time I spoke with my brother, he hinted that trouble was on the horizon. I just hope this isn’t what he meant.

The sound of my phone ringing jolts me from my thoughts, its shrill tone cutting through the night’s silence.

“I’m gathering you’ve heard the news,” he says when I answer the call.

“Please tell me you had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course I did. That motherfucker had it coming,” he barks down the line. “Maybe now the Mortellis will stay the hell out of our business.”

It breaks my heart to see what my little brother has become under our father’s influence. I always protected and looked out for him growing up, and when I left, I begged him to come with me, but he chose to stay. And now I fear I’ve lost him to the dark side. I barely recognise the man he is now.

I tilt my head back and groan as my frustration builds.

Shit like this can only mean one thing … retaliation. An all-out fucking bloodbath. It’s how things work with theCosa Nostra—an eye for an eye. Or countless eyes for an eye when you’re talking about the cold-blooded murder of a Mafia boss. Mortelli’s two sons are fucking psychopaths like their old man was. They won’t take his slaying lying down.

Our family already had a damn target on our backs.This stupid move is as good as signing off on your own death warrant, in my opinion.

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