Page 55 of Prince of Malice

“You told me you were a Morganelli,” I stammer.

Antonio takes his hands off of his supposed son’s back and throws them in the air. “Well, that one’s on me. I know my reputation all too well.” He paces the floor around us, unable to resist playing up his victory lap. “I just couldn’t bear the idea of dumping that on him at such a young age. People would treat him differently, and he’d be better off without that on his shoulders.””

“Something your parents should haveconsidered,” Angelo mocks us both, kicking us while we’re already down. “Though that would be saving them from your embarrassment instead.”

“For now, my boy will just have his mother’s name.” Antonio gives his son a smile. “When he’s ready, we can always tack my name on the end too.”

For a moment, I watch Angelo’s body tense. “Go on guys. Let him go,” Angelo commands to the guys holding me back. “You good there, Dom?”

“Fuck you,” I spit back at him.

“That’s more like it. I was worried you just gave up all together there,” he says. “Do you want to punch me? Would that make you feel better?”

He steps toward me slowly, getting his smug face right up in mine.

“Go on,” he provokes. “Hit me.”

Staring back at him, I leave my fists by my sides. I don’t have it in me to even try to hit him, and even if I did, I would miss and make myself look even weaker.

“That’s just sad,” he mocks.

My body gives out, and I drop to the floor again, lying on the ground, no longer able tomove any part of my body on its own. I give up.

My ear lands beside Luca’s mouth, our legs sprawling out in either direction.

“I have a plan,” he whispers to me, a distinct croak in his voice.

Rolling onto my side to face him, the shock of pain erupting from my ribs jolts through my entire body. “No,” I whisper back.

Antonio stands beside his son, smirking down at us in our weakest moment, as if the image is the only thing that will make him feel strong and powerful.

Angelo leans into his ear and whispers something to him while he nods. He pulls away and points to four of the men standing around us. “Separate them. I don’t want any more talking.”

“Come on, take them into the other rooms,” Antonio echoes the sentiment.

My arms are being pulled back and yanked toward the ceiling as I am hauled up and dragged across the room. Luca is being treated with the same level of care as the two of us are moved apart and taken away to the two rooms on either side of the restaurant.

One of the Greco lackeys throws me back into one of the small, cold chairs in the room, the other man binding my hands behind the back of it. My shoulders crack as they're tied in an awkward knot.

“Is this really necessary?” I cough out. My lungs feel like they’re about to explode.

“With how much I’ve learned about you,” he begins, speaking slowly and purposefully, entirely different from the Angelo I thought I knew, “it’s best to play it safe.”

“Did you really spend all that time with me just waiting for this?”

Angelo waits to answer, traipsing across the room around me toward the desk and sitting in the grand chair behind it, lording over me as he cowers behind the slab of wood. “Not at first.”

I tilt my head up to look at him.

“At first, you were just some idiot who kept screwing up his own life so badly that it was too much fun to stop watching,” he taunts me. “Then when you told me about your mom’s wedding, well, I couldn’t let the opportunity go.”

“I can’t believe you, man,” I sputter out.

“Believe what? You were on this path of self-destruction already. All I did was give you a little push.”

“You tried to get me killed!”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” he speaks coldly.

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