Page 148 of Seeking Vengeance

“Nobody else was meant to be there,” he growls. “Everything ran smoothly until that asshole spooked us.”

“Everything ran smoothly?” Abri’s hand tentatively climbs to her throat. “I disagree.”

Salvo ignores her. Everyone does as silence falls, the hum of the Maserati the only sound.

I knew they never had the picture-perfect relationship they projected on social media. The overheard conversations at Perfezione are proof of that. But seeing them like this shows the cuts run deeper.

None of them are proud of their lives. They’re miserable here.

Yet they still don’t leave.

“I’m not here to recap your mistakes.” I pull my hands from my pockets, raising my palms to show I’m not here to fight. “I only came to make sure Emmanuel doesn’t repeat them in the future. So are you escorting me inside or am I entering by force?”

Remy sneers. Their guards grip the handle of their holstered weapons.

“Fine. Be my guest.” Salvatore smirks and turns to the house, swinging an arm toward the front door. “But it’s her funeral.”

34

Matthew

I open Layla’s door,offering a hand to help her climb out only to fight frustration when she pushes away my hospitality.

I make sure she stays at my side as we’re led into the house, Salvatore climbing the curved entry staircase, a guard marching close at his back when he enters the upper-level hall.

We become a long line of temperamental fuckery as we stride into a wing of the mansion that didn’t exist when I was a child. Bishop and De Marco remain in my shadow, followed by Adena, Remy, Abri and their second guard, then Goodin and Whitby at the rear.

“You sure you want to do this?” Salvo stops at a closed door at the end of the hall, his hand poised on the handle. “Times may change, Dante, but he hasn’t learned to listen.”

I glower. “Open the fucking door.”

He shrugs and does as requested, pushing the painted wood wide to continue inside, the guard on his tail. He exposes a sunlit room full of medical equipment, Emmanuel seated in the middle on an inclined hospital bed. The grey-haired bastard’s legs are covered by sheets and a knitted blanket, his torso draped in an oversized grey shirt with heart monitor cables snaking out from one of the short sleeves and neck hole.

He’s lost weight since the last time I saw him at Perfezione, his cheeks now gaunt, his skin a pale shade of grey.

“Son.” He greets me without surprise, the Italian accent lingering in his voice while he repositions himself to sit taller. “I was beginning to wonder when you would come inside. It’s good to see you again.”

“Stay behind me,” I mutter to Layla and continue forward, looking down my nose at him with blatant scorn as the peanut gallery enter behind me to suffocate the space. “I heard you were shot. Too bad they didn’t have better aim.”

Emmanuel chuckles, the sound morphing into a wheezing hack of a cough. “It was merely a scratch to the shoulder.” The hacking continues, his struggle growing. “Unfortunately, complications came with the recovery. Sepsis hasn’t been kind.”

“What a shame,” Layla mutters.

Emmanuel’s eyes narrow on her as he reaches to the side of the bed, retrieving an oxygen mask to place over his mouth. “Ahh, yes. The woman I saw on the security feed. Let her come closer so I can take a better look.”

“She’s fine where she is.” I raise an arm at my side, making sure Layla isn’t tempted to oblige. “I’m sure you recognize her.”

“I do.” He nods into the mask, dragging in breaths. “And I appreciate you bringing me such a gift.”

I straighten to my full height, fuming at the taunt.

Bishop clears his throat, hard, as if warning me to keep my rage under control.

I struggle to comply. I fucking battle not to reach for his mask and wrap the rubber cord around his neck until the smug superiority vanishes from his face.

“She’s no gift,” I snarl. “I suggest you treat her with respect if you don’t plan on giving more strength to your enemies.”

“You’ll never be an enemy, son.” He waves me away, lowering the mask. “But I know you’ve been sleeping with her. That you lied about your name and withheld your legacy to win her over. The news actually brought a proud tear to my eye.”

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