Page 31 of The Shadow King's Brother

Nica moves before I do, her steps quiet, controlled. She grabs his collar and jerks him forward, her gun pressing hard against his temple. “Answer Elio’s questions, or else–” she pants, then clicks her tongue against her teeth, mimicking the sharp, mocking sound of a gunshot.

Vinny’s jaw tightens. Just for a second. Was that fear?

“Fine,” he exhales. “I was looking for information about you all like I said, okay? I wanted fucking revenge of some sorts. To make my way back into the family business. To find something to blackmail you with. Alright? I wanted to screw you over—mess with you, okay?”

“And?” I say.

His lips press together, “And then things, the information, was missing from the safe house, and afterwards someone tried to kill me—and things didn’t add the fuck up.” He looks straight at me, eyes dark, defiant. Not asking for sympathy. Just stating facts. “I changed my mind. Got fucking spooked.”

Jackson’s voice snaps through. “And we’re supposed to believe you’ve gone all s-saint on us? You’re not fooling me! You k-killed Carol, you fuck—”

He lunges, fury twisting his face, but I’m faster. My hand clamps onto his arm, yanking him back. Jackson struggles, kicking and fighting, but he’s too weak from the alcohol. I force him onto the couch, holding him there until the fight drains out of him.

“I didn’t fucking kill some Carol chick. I’ve been – clean for a while now,” he says and straightens his jacket, brushing imaginary dust from the lapels. “I’m not doing this to be some damn nice guy, fuck no.” His voice drops lower, like gravel scraping against steel. “I need you assholes to survive, for me to survive. Can you get that through your thick fucking skulls?”

Nica doesn’t blink. “Who did you meet at the safe house?”

“An associate, I told you already,” he stammers.

“The truth,” she presses.

Vinny clears his throat, the sound dry, rough. “S-Seraphina.”

Liar.

The name lingers in the air. My gut says he’s full of shit, but I don’t call him on it. Not yet.

Instead, I watch him. Watch the twitch of his fingers, the way his throat works around the lie.

He thinks he can play us? He should know better.

“Take him to the secure room upstairs, two men on him all times,” I command.

“The old house holding cell?” Vinny says, “that’ll feel just like home.”

Shaking my head I sigh and look around, what else will this day bring?

* * *

The pale dawnlight slices through the blinds, painting stripes across the wall. I rub the sleep from my eyes, a nice little souvenir of a restless night. I push myself out of bed, the chill of the floor jolting me awake.

I remind myself that Vinny is in the house, pinching my arm to confirm it isn’t a dream.

Everything is real now, including the possibility that he’ll go off the deep end and say or do something he shouldn’t. He’s fucked up, unreliable, a liar.

Nica and I have a meeting with Tuvio. It’s routine, yet I feel a different energy. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s shifted.

It’s probably cause my crazy brother is in my house.

Nica is already awake; I can hear the muffled sounds of her moving around downstairs. We’re driving in together.

I splash water on my face, the cold a welcome shock, and my fingers rasp against the rough stubble of my jaw.I need to shave.

My gaze drifts to the phoenix tattoo rising from my chest up my neck– a De Luca will always rise from the ashes. Right now, I feel like I’ve risen from nothing more than a restless night.

I ache to crawl back into bed.With Nica.I shake my head, forcing the thought away. I return to the bedroom, pull on an Armani suit, and dress quickly.

Downstairs, Nica waits, her posture tense, and she has a slight tremor in her hand as she checks her watch. Her dark hair frames her face, and those powerful eyes search, assess—as if she can see through me.

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