Page 40 of Dangerous King
"Get off me, you fucker," Roberto growls, kicking toward me. With a chuckle, I step back and watch him go on all fours before clutching his hand. "Your sister is not a reliable witness." He pours himself a whiskey with his uninjured hand.
"He's right," Edoardo agrees. "You had no right to break into the Giordano's place and kill a capo. That is, if Giovanni is dead?" He directs at me, and I ignore the question.
"My sister wouldn't lie," I reply with a snarl. I was prepared for this argument. "Guiliana DeLuna also witnessed the abduction and has pictures of one of your cars," I glare at Roberto.
Roberto laughs dryly, "Forged."
"You need to do better than that," Edoardo says, leaning back in his chair. Too calmly. My eyes move between the two men in the room. This was orchestrated. Edoardo is in on this, at least partially. I don't know his motives, but I will find out, and when I do, I won't give a shit if he's our Don or not.
"I also have another witness, a girl who was being held hostage in your house." I smile at Roberto, loving the way he's turning pale again. I hate throwing Cat out to the wolves, but I'll keep her safe. Nobody will lay a hand on her.
"What girl?" Edoardo leans forward. Interesting. This seems to be a part he wasn't aware of.
"The daughter of some unimportant mayor in Sicily," Roberto empties his glass and puts his injured hand into the ice bucket.
"Oh," I mock. "Unimportant?"
Roberto glares at me. He has no idea how to respond. A telling sign. Whatever he and Edoardo are up to just went off script. Making me wonder who wrote it.
"She's the daughter of the mayor of a major port in Sicily. Porto Sangue. All of the Giordano's shipments go through it." I fill him in.
The tension thickens. Roberto glares at me, trying to act like he still holds the upper hand, but his body betrays him. His shoulders are too tight, and the vein on his throat is pulsing. Edoardo leans forward behind the desk, still holding that half-empty glass of expensive whiskey like it's going to shield him from the explosion he senses is coming.
"Unimportant. Just a spoiled Sicilian brat." Roberto tries to play it off.
"Oh,unimportant, huh?" I smirk at him. "Then why doesn't our Don know about her?"
He doesn't answer.
Edoardo's eyes are on Roberto. "Why wasn't I told about this?"
Roberto has no response, so I press. "Because they used her to put pressure on her father so they could move shipments without reporting them to the family."
Edoardo's knuckles whiten on the glass. "Shipments." Now that he's scented payoffs being denied to him, he's all ears.
"Shipments," I growl. "Drugs. Arms. Crypto cash. Human trafficking. Whatever it was, it didn't pass through the usual channels. No percentages sent upward. No oversight."
Roberto finally finds his voice, and it's cold with a hint of defensiveness. "We were securing alternative revenue?—"
"Forwho?" I cut in. "You? Giovanni? Or whatever offshore ally you're funneling that product to?"
Edoardo slams his glass down on the desk hard enough to crack it. "You ran product behind my back?"
"No, no," Roberto says too quickly. "Never?—"
"That's the problem with half-baked schemes, Roberto," I say, my voice like steel. "You forget the part where someone like me finds out. And then the whole thing goes—" Dramatically, I hold my fist closed, then suddenly fling my fingers wide open—like a flower blooming, only fast and violent. "Boom."
Roberto turns red. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but Edoardo holds up a hand. "Shut up."
Roberto stops.
Edoardo rises slowly. "Is what he's saying true?" He asks, his voice dangerously quiet.
Roberto hesitates. It's the wrong move.
"Answer me!" Edoardo slams his fist down this time, full force. The desk shakes.
"Yes," Roberto snaps. "But I just found out. My dad kept it from me. We had a fight. That's why I left." He glares at me, still smarting from when I accused him earlier of running away while his father was left to deal with my wrath. "I had no idea about any of this. I swear." He looks at Edoardo.
