Page 5 of The Enforcer's Revenge
Brianna shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
“Okay.” Chuito nodded. “I’m gonna go. Alaine’s studying for the bar, and I…” He pointed to the door behind Brianna. “I’m just gonna go.” He walked past them but then stopped and looked back at Tony. “Are you wearing makeup?”
“Yes.” Tony sounded unapologetic about it.
Chuito looked at him, as if waiting for more of an explanation, but Tony obviously had nothing else to say, so Chuito just frowned at him and said, “Whatever, bro.”
When he left, Tony looked at the closed door, raising his eyebrows with a snort of disbelief, making it obvious the death of Brianna’s husband was easy to forget for a seasoned enforcer.
“How gay is that MMA shit?” Tony asked her. “He’s wearing those shorts and worried about my eyeliner? For real?”
Brianna stared back at Tony, who was still looking too sexy to be human, with those dark eyes enhanced to make him seem even more beautiful. Again, it reminded her of Tino, with all that raw sexuality that came from such a dark place.
She sighed and whispered, “My life is so fucked up.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to say I’m sorry he’s dead,” Tony said in a cold, dispassionate voice that was common for him. “Is that why you’re looking at me like that? You want me to say sorry that the motherfucker who tried to kill you is dead? You want me to say sorry that Tino squished him like a bug under his own car?”
“Would you?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Brianna needed a break from Tony and his sharp edges, even if it was horribly warranted. “I’m staying up here for a little while.”
Turned out Novawasthe better choice for the time being.
Tony let her because he was good at fading into the background and not forcing his opinions. Brianna found Novain the bedroom, sitting on the edge of his king-sized bed in his karate pants. The view of the city was breathtaking behind him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
He just stared at the television, watching the local news.
Waiting.
Nova surprised her by moving over and making room for Brianna to sit next to him. The setting was different, missing the musty smell from hiding in basements, but it still felt the same. No matter the backdrop, war was horrible, the waiting most of all.
It was just all too similar, eerily so.
“History has patterns. There’s always a pattern,” Nova whispered over the drone of the weather report that announced snow for Thanksgiving. “And I guess some things can’t be changed. Delayed, not prevented. He loves you too much.”
“Yeah, he does,” she agreed because her husband was lying cold and dead in a morgue because of it. “But a car jack? That’s not the same.”
“Nope,” Nova agreed, gaze still on the television.
“It’s not like there’s mafia carnage raining down on the city,” Brianna went on, desperate for a silver lining. “It was revenge, but it was sensible revenge.”
“I know.” Nova didn’t sound comforted by it. “But if Tino’s hiding from us and crushing motherfuckers under cars for touching you, can you imagine what would’ve happened if that cretino you married had actually killed you? It wouldn’t be the same as last time… It’d be worse.”
CHAPTER ONE
Mills Basin, New York
December 18th, 2009
“Maronna.”Carlo turned around from where he stood, steering the boat. “Make sure all the fucking evidence is gone ’cause someone’s calling the heat for sure. This party just started.”
Carlo Moretti, illegitimate son of Don Moretti, lead enforcer for the Moretti Borgata, half-uncle to Tino, Nova, and Carina, best friend to Nova, and technically Tino’s boss, was first and foremost the original Lost Boy.
He was the reason the rest of them had a place as bastards of the Borgata. He owned the label rather than hiding from it, and it was typically very hard to shake his cool, but tonight might test him.
Tino laughed as his uncle pulled the boat up to the dock of the Mills Basin mansion, their Borgata used for entertaining on the outside and as a cover for other nefarious reasons the rest of the time. An extremely affluent area of Brooklyn, it was also conveniently located on Jamaica Bay, where boat front parkingwas a thing. No one would ask why they’d been out since mid-afternoon. Tino and Carlo didn’t look at all unusual pulling up to attend his sister’s birthday party in the twenty-three-foot Yellowfin boat.
