Page 82 of Ruthless Vengeance
“You heard me.”
“Why the hell would you want to meet with them? They literally want to kill you.”
“I’m aware.” I tuck my hands into my pockets.
“So, what, you’ve got some sort of death wish, is that it?”
“You’re not in a position to question me, Ben.”
“I think I can when you’re dragging my sister into this shit.”
I bark a laugh. “That’s fucking rich coming from you. Do you need reminding of the fact that you literally let Tommaso lock her in a fucking cell?”
Ben’s jaw clenches, but he stays silent.
“That’s what I thought. So, are you going to sort this out or what? Because if you need reminding, your usefulness is directly correlated to the number of breaths you have left.”
“Is that a fucking threat, De Luca?”
I shrug. “Only if you want it to be.”
I glance sidelong at Dom, whose towering frame is hovering in the doorway.
When I catch his eye, he offers me a grin as he cracks his tattooed knuckles.
I don’t need to look at Ben to know the color has drained from his face.
“So, can you help me or not?” I turn my attention back to Ben.
Ben shakes his head. “You’re insane.”
“Answer the fucking question.”
Ben huffs. “They’re going to want a reason.”
“Tell them I have a proposition for them.”
Calling a meeting with Tommaso’s sons could either be the smartest move I’ve ever made, or the one that gets me killed. But if I want to take out Cillian, I need leverage, and the Tommaso brothers hate him almost as much as I do. I can only hope their hatred for Cillian is bigger than their desire for vengeance against me.
“You’re not going to tell me what this is about?”
“No.”
Ben studies me for a long second, then he nods slowly when he realizes I’m not going to change my mind. “I’ll make the call.”
Chapter Twenty-One
CLARA
It’sthe night of Rosa’s homecoming dance and for the past hour, the upstairs hallway has sounded like the backstage of a Broadway show. Music blasts from speakers in Rosa’s room, and makeup and hair products litter her vanity as Lila and I help her get ready.
I can honestly say I’m having a blast as the three of us crowd in front of the mirror, with Lila and me taking turns fussing over Rosa like we’re prepping her for a red-carpet premiere.
I carried in the mannequin from my sewing room, which is now sitting in the corner wearing Rosa’s dress.
I steamed it and added a few extra beads for good measure.
“Hold still.” I laugh as I pin the last piece of her hair into place.
