I winced at his harsh tone and my eyes snapped to him. Before I could tell him to take his attitude home, he must have realized his mistake and immediately wrapped his arms around me, regret on his face.
“I’m sorry. It just pisses me off to feel helpless.” I could understand that feeling. I have felt helpless against the dreams and nightmares that plagued me since my mother’s death. It was only once I started training with DeAngelo and working towards a goal—revenge—that I started to heal. I imagined Adriano probably felt the same. He wanted to avenge his father’s death, just as much as Santi. “It makes me feel incompetent,” he admitted begrudgingly.
I took his hand in mine. “Trust me, I know,” I rasped.
Sometimes I wanted to admit to him or Lorenzo about what I was doing. The only thing that held me back was the worry of them putting a stop to it. Despite Adriano being my best friend and laid back, just as Lorenzo was, they were still made men. The concept of protecting women and not letting them get close to danger was ingrained into them. They couldn’t grasp that women could be just as strong as men and fight their own battles. I couldn’t risk them pulling me away from the purpose that had been pushing me forward.
Revenge of my own. A promise to keep.
“I know. And I’m sorry for snapping like that.” Adriano pressed a kiss on my cheek, his way of telling me he really meant it. He looked tired, and I felt a twinge of guilt at not being there for him last night. But he left and never said anything.
“Santi said you followed a lead yesterday,” I stated. “He probably doesn’t want you to overexert yourself,” I added, trying to comfort him.
Adriano cocked his head, eyeing me suspiciously, and my cheeks flushed. Just thinking about last night sent me into a heatwave. Besides, I felt I might have said too much.
The silence was killing me, the nervous energy brimming through me. I wasn’t prepared to share what happened yesterday between his big brother and me.
“Santi said you spent the night?” Adriano questioned me, with a wary look on his face. Or maybe I was being paranoid and reading too much into his expression.
“Yeah, I was waiting for you,” I muttered.Sort of. Well, initially I was. Then I got sidetracked with his big brother.Ugh. “I asked him to bring me home this morning.”
I kept my expression guarded, resisting the urge to fidget. Though I couldn’t help my blushing.
“What room did you sleep in?”
There wasn’t much sleeping going on, I thought wryly.
“A small one,” I answered vaguely.
“Santi slept in the master bedroom.” I wasn’t quite sure if he meant it as a statement or a question, so I just shrugged.
I wished he’d just drop the subject of my sleepover. I searched in my mind for a neutral subject, anything but last night and Adriano’s frustration at being here with me.
“So where is he?” I asked casually.
He forced a smile. “Making the cartel curse the day they were born. He’s hunting those Venezuelan motherfuckers—” He cut himself off, realizing he had said too much.
“I thought he killed the one that shot your…” I swallowed hard and realized how insensitive that sounded. I worried about Santi. If he was going for the head of the Venezuelan Cartel, he could potentially get himself killed. I had seen firsthand how cruel they were. The Cosa Nostra had some honor and lines they refused to cross; the Venezuelan Cartel didn’t. They killed children, women, men, elders… it was all the same to them. “Isn’t it dangerous?” Suddenly my heart was thundering hard, and my voice came out hoarse.
“Forget what I said.” He pressed his finger against my mouth. He glanced around, seeing the house empty. “Where is your dad?”
“In his office.”
Fuck! I had to talk to DeAngelo. We had to get rid of the Venezuelan Cartel in New York, and anywhere else, once and for all. Grandpa was killed for his position in the Venezuelan Cartel. Considering what happened to our family, I was almost convinced they wanted to kill our entire line. They killed Mom and wanted me dead too. They also killed Mr. Russo.
If they hurt more people, I couldn’t live with it. My brothers, father, uncle, Adriano. And just the thought of Santi being killed had my heart shattering into a million pieces. That would utterly destroy me.
“But her favorite uncle is here,” Uncle Vincent’s voice came from behind us, startling me. I hadn’t heard him walk in.
I smiled at him.
“You absolutely are my favorite uncle.” I didn’t bother pointing out to him that he was my only uncle. It didn’t take away that I loved him, and he would probably have been my favorite uncle anyway. He disappeared into the kitchen, probably hunting for some cannolis.
Once he was out of earshot, I turned my attention to Adriano. “Why is Santi hunting for more Venezuelan Cartel members?”
He regretted saying anything and was probably scolding himself. “Amore, let it go. I was stupid to let it slip. I’m just so mad. I wanted to go with them, make those assholes pay. He wanted me here with you.”
“Oh. Why?”