Page 77 of Code Name: Dante

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DANTE

“You’re quiet,” said Grit, approaching me as I stood off to the side of the great room back at the Kane Mountain camp. “It’s a lot to take in.” His gaze spanned the room.

I nodded. The last few days had been a whirlwind of never-ending information coming at me from every direction.

Rocco Mazzeo had requested a plea deal in his first hour in custody, ready to spill the secrets of a family with no one left to prosecute. I had no idea what the outcome would be for him unless he had dirt on some of the other families, which I doubted.

The main takeaway from him was how his grandfather had learned that Summer Gregory had killed his son—in what turned out to be self-defense, resulting in no charges filed against her.

It seemed all kinds of lowlifes attempted to come out of the woodwork after the almighty Vincent Castellano’s arrest. Most hoped to cash in on whatever information they’d held onto over the years—just like the guy who’d gone to Dominic Mazzeo, saying he’d witnessed a woman stab Anthony. And what did he get for it? A bullet struck him in the head in what law enforcement was calling a drive-by shooting.

No one, them and myself included, had any doubt my brother was behind the murder, even though he remained in solitary confinement.

Tomorrow, my mother was scheduled to meet with him at the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Manhattan. She asked if I wanted to go with her, and I responded truthfully that I did not. The closure I needed had come the day I met with him, asking for help finding my mother and Lark’s. I didn’t look at my brother any differently now than I did then.

Would I celebrate his passing if he was given the death penalty? I would not, in the same way I’d never celebrated anyone’s. My goal all along had been to put an end to the legacy of murders and destruction at the hands of the Castellano crime family. The day I decided to go undercover was the day I ceased to belong to a family I hadn’t been a part of anyway. Not that the Rossettis were any better.

Rachel McKinney had successfully coordinatedraids on many of those who’d worked for Vincent. The asset freeze had certainly made those more successful, given those who might’ve had the means to flee weren’t able to.

Any worry I had about my mother’s and sister’s financial status, given my belief that Vincent’s dirty money had funded their lives for the last twenty-six-plus years, were put to rest thanks to Alice. She and Tex had confirmed my mother was worth millions that were inherited from her family in Italy, none of whom had any ties to organized crime.

I leaned against the wall and rolled my shoulders, not wanting to take a minute away from Lark, her mother, and grandmother, but still longing for time alone with her.

“Have you given any further thought to my proposal?” I opened my eyes and looked into those of my mom.

“I think you should do whatever you want with the compound. It’s yours.”

“As I’m aware, Sandro. Except it does affect you. And by that, I mean it affects Lark.”

The proposal my mother referred to was her suggestion that the Great Sacandaga Lake property be turned into a family compound. One where we all lived, at least part of the year. By “we all,” she meant herself, Chiara, Barbara, and Summer, along with Lark and me. I wasn’t for or against it.

As I’d told Lark, wherever she was, I would consider my home. Whether in the Adirondacks or anywhere else in the world.

“Look at the two of them,” my mother said, motioning to Grit, who stood talking to Chiara.

“What about them?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“What?”

“You would think a man in love would recognize attraction when he saw it.”

My mouth hung open. “First of all, Grit is old enough to be her father. Second, they’ve known each other less than twenty-four hours.”

Based on the look on their faces, both Grit and Chiara had heard every word I said, and I didn’t give a shit.

“Your sister is the same age as Lark, Sandro, and Drake is younger than you are.”

Drake?Was that Grit’s name? I didn’t remember ever hearing it. And if I had, I wouldn’t have cared any more than I did right now.

“Ahem, actually, I’m older than your son, but only by a couple of years. I can understand why you’d think I was younger, given how much better looking I am.”

I rolled my eyes like my mom had.

My sister, who I’d known only a few hours longer thanDrakehad, stuck her tongue out at me before the two of them walked out to the deck.

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