Page 108 of Brutal Devil
“It wasn’t the Bratva,” I tell her gently.
“Amedeo?”
I nod. There’s more to this story. I’m not sure she’s ready to hear it.
She seems to sense it, though. I can see as much in her expression.
“What else aren’t you telling me?” Luna asks quietly.
“Do you want a drink?” I ask instead of answering her question.
Her gaze flicks to the Johnnie Walker. “I don’t do whiskey.”
“Wine,” I say, recalling what she wanted in the observation room at the casino, what feels like a million fucking years ago.
I go to the wine rack and find a bottle of red, remembering it’s what she prefers. She’s quiet as I take out the corkscrew. I don’t want to have to be the one to tell her what I learned today, but I also can’t keep it from her. Luna deserves to know.
I pull out the cork then pour her a generous glass. I grasp the cool stem, offering it to her.
She takes it, our fingers brushing, that same old spark of electricity zipping down my spine at the fleeting touch. “Thank you.”
I’m about to peel back the scabs on wounds that still haven’t healed. Gratitude will be far from her mind in a few minutes.Fuck.How am I going to tell her?
“You should sit for this,” I say.
The flush from her shower has fled her face and she’s mostly pale, but she does as I suggest, sinking onto a barstool and hooking her bare feet over the rungs. I pour myself another double and sit on the stool next to her so that we’re facing each other, eye to eye. She still hasn’t touched her wine.
I incline my head toward her glass. “Drink.”
“I have a feeling the wine isn’t going to help.”
“A few sips.”
She obliges me, drinking the wine and catching a drop that clings to her lips with her tongue. Ordinarily, such a move would have made my cock stir, but this is a different kind of conversation, and the only thing I’m feeling at the moment is compassion. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, along with the urge to take her in my arms and offer her comfort.
“Go,” she says quietly, her voice strained.
“It’s about your brother,” I begin. “Scorpion’s Bratva connection led him to a Revello soldier who’s been answering directly to Amedeo, a man by the name of Carlo Gallo. Carlo’s been nosing around on Bratva territory, trying to disrupt their shipments and supply. In the last few months, he roped my cousin Antonio into an underground casino deep inside Bratva territory. Told Antonio that the rewards were well worth the risks. Scorpion did some digging, and it looks like my cousin was in the red after he built his wife a big new house he couldn’t afford. Antonio knew we wouldn’t go for setting up shop in Bratva territory, so he took the bait from Carlo.”
I stop, letting Luna process all that.
Her brow is furrowed, but she’s still listening. “Continue, please.”
“Carlo went to the Bratva. He told them my cousin Antonio was running an underground casino in their territory, and that Antonio was acting on behalf of the Andriani family.”
The double-cross was as vicious as it was ingenious.
“That’s like signing a death warrant,” Luna breathes.
“Right. Except it gets even worse. Carlo clipped Antonio and some of his guys before going to the Bratva. Told them he’d taken care of the problem and that all he wanted in exchange was a favor for Amedeo, who is set to become the new don with Tomasso out of the picture. Then Carlo staged the bodies to make it look like the Bratva were behind it.”
Luna exhales. “Wow. So that’s how you know Amedeo was behind my father’s murder. Carlo was acting on Amedeo’s behalf.”
“There’s still more. Scorpion’s Bratva connection didn’t buy Carlo’s story. He told us where Carlo was going to be last night, and we picked him up.”
“That’s why you were gone all day,” she guesses, understanding dawning on her face.
I nod. “While we were working Carlo over, he made another confession. He told us that Amedeo ordered the hit on your brother. Carlo did it, and that’s how he got made. He was instructed to pin the blame on the Andrianis.”
