Page 27 of Tortured Hearts
“That’ll be all, Henry,” my father snaps.
Henry’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you said?—”
“Dio santo!Get the fuck out!”
I’ve never seen a man move so fast. One minute Henry is hovering like a shadow, and the next he’s a red-headed blur sprinting out the door.
“You should put a muzzle on your lapdog,” I say, the visible chink in their armor fortifying my own. “He’s contradicting your delusion.”
Lowering into his chair, he fixes me with a hard stare and places his drink on the table. “You have a severe lack of respect, Gianni. Perhaps you need an incentive to fix it.”
His steel-edged tone funnels all my attention to the hand reaching inside his suit jacket. I tighten my finger around the trigger just as he produces his phone. With one press of a button it flares to life, my stomach twisting as he slides it across the game table. There’s no sound coming from the video on the screen, just an image of a Becca lying in the center of a dark basement floor like a discarded rag doll.
I lunge from my chair, the rage I’ve kept in check erupting. I have the gun pressed to his forehead, ready to pull the trigger, when an identical one lands between my eyes. We stare at each other, each more than ready to send the other straight to Hell when the door flies open. A rapid snap of Italian dress shoes eats up the distance, and then the gun is ripped from my hand.
The cold steel of Marcello’s muzzle scrapes across my forehead as I turn to find Anton standing at my side like a pissed-off Rottweiler. I glare at him, making a mental note to saw off every finger he has when this is over. “I’ll fucking kill you,” I mutter under my breath.
My father lowers his gun and pockets his phone. “You want revenge, Gianni? Go ahead. Take it. But know that I’ve got a man stationed outside her door ready to take mine, and I’ve instructed him to make sure she knows every second of her torture isbecause of you.”
I clench my fist, the space where my gun should be withering more of my fuse. “What’s this really about? What do you want?”
He leans so close I can smell a week’s worth of whiskey on his breath. “I want solidified power. Something your wandering eye nearly cost me.”
“Don’t tell me this whole cat-and-mouse game has been about resurrecting your sad, little marriage pact. Because that’d be pathetic, even for you.” Not to mention, make him look like even more of an incompetent dipshit. It’s been eight months since the New Jersey and Connecticut bosses put their heirs on the marital auction block in an underhanded power play…
And six since I dropped the match that sent it all up in flames.
“I have no interest in facilitating another union between you and Carmine’s daughter,” he says with a dismissive wave. “However, the stunt you pulled in retaliation weakened the Marchesi name. This ‘cat-and-mouse’game, as you call it, has been about strengthening it.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s hear this ‘brilliant’ plan.”
“Simple,” he says, swirling the liquid in his glass. “We call a truce.”
Right.Because feuding mafia men always prefer peace to violence.
“You’re forgetting the Authority considers me Public Enemy Number One. I’d think the only ‘truce’ they’d entertain would involve a bullet.”
As the governing body of the East Coast underworld, the Authority enforces allLa Cosa Nostrarules. So he’d better have a golden ticket before parading me around like a prized steer, or he might as well turn that gun around.
“Five Families. Five bosses. Five votes,” he says, ticking all three off on his fingers. “As a member of theAuthority, I have the power to make rules and bend them.” His smile returns. “It’s surprising how quickly people will alter their values when given the right motivation.”
The only surprising thing is him thinking I’d buy a tenth of the load he’s shoveling.
“Just an observation…” I say, sitting back and letting the bait sink below the surface. “If I’m such a pariah, wouldn’t the whole ‘forgive and forget’ thing make you guilty by association?”
“I don’t have to forgive you to exploit you, Gianni. You’re simply a piece on my chessboard.”
“And you expect me to believe I’m anything other than a pawn?”
“I don’t care what you believe. My actions aren’t for you to question.”
I raise an eyebrow. “The other bosses might question them once they find out about your Providence side hustle.”
While Anton gives me nothing but a stone-walled stare, Marcello seems entertained by the accusation. “Those idiots are incapable of finding their own dicks, much less something operating in front of their faces.”
“Oh, Marcello…” Itsk. “If you were half as smart as you think you are, you might be a functioning idiot. Naming your shell corporation Rose and Dagger Holdings isn’t the red herring you think it is. Especially when you link it to another one named Tesora International.”
“Search every financial record I have,” he says, firing off the empty dare like a blank bullet. “You won’t find one mention of these so-called ‘shell corporations.’” Holstering his gun, he picks up his glass and tips it toward me. “Now, I’ve grown tired of this conversation. It’s time to make a choice. Dr. Brennan’s life is in your hands. Accept your fate or seal hers.”
