Page 48 of Brutal Devil
“She didn’t break it.” Saint makes an elaborate show of slurping the last of his milk.
“I think she did, boss,” Rocco says.
I grin at him. This is why he’s my right-hand man. I can always count on Roc to have my back.
“He’ll say whatever you want him to say,” Saint grumbles, setting his bowl back down on the table. “But listen, as much as I’d like to argue with you two about my pretty face, we’ve got more important things to do. Like figure out who the fuck clipped Tomasso Revello.”
I need the reminder. Luna has me off my game. We’ve spent the last week in defense mode, trying to figure out what the hell went down that day. Working out of the safe house isn’t ideal, but the main goal is to keep me alive and make sure Luna is safe. If I go down, hell will break loose, and the Revellos and Andrianis will be in an all-out war.
“What do you have so far?” I ask Saint.
“We got access to more security footage from the businesses surrounding the cathedral.”
“Not every business yet? It’s been a week.”
Saint shakes his head. “The Feds have been sniffing around.”
I set down my fork. “Fuck. Again? I thought you talked to your guy.”
“I did talk to my guy.”
“Then why the hell are they poking around in the surveillance cameras we need to access?”
“Relax. He’ll get us what we need in another day or so.”
“This is taking too fucking long. Is Lucky still on Amedeo and his men?”
“Like a hawk.”
I nod, feeling edgy and restless. “And Scorpion?”
“He’s put a call in to his Bratva connection.”
“You think the Bratva would have the balls to take down Tomasso Revello at his daughter’s wedding?”
Saint shrugs and flicks a look in Rocco’s direction.
I look from Roc to my brother. “What aren’t you two telling me?”
“Nothing,” Saint says quickly.
Too quickly.
“It’s not nothing. Out with it. Right now, or I’ll re-break your nose.”
“You can’t re-break what isn’t broken.”
I pick up my fork and wield it like a weapon—which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve used a fork this way. “I’ll gouge out your eye.”
Saint sighs. “Antonio and the boys set up an underground casino in Bratva territory.”
I slam my fist onto the table. “The fuck? We have an understanding with the Russians.”
My brother winces. “Correction. Wedidhave an understanding. One that we’ve technically broken.”
“Fuck. Where’s Antonio right now?”
Antonio is our cousin on our mother’s side, a Rossi. For years now, the Rossis have been under the umbrella of the Andriani crew, with the understanding that they follow our code. Our friends are their friends. Same with our enemies. And thereare lines, like a tentative truce with the Bratva, that they don’t fucking cross.
