Page 113 of The Fates We Tame
King throws his arm over my shoulder as we move out of earshot of the Sicilians. “Welcome back.”
I give him side eye, and he chuckles.
One of the injured Sicilians tries to stand, and Spark kicks him down and places a boot on his chest. “I’m getting tired of this shit,” he grumbles.
“So much for some time off,” Clutch says.
“You think Cillian is right?” I ask.
“In what way?” King replies.
“That we need a show of force. It feels like people are starting to creep around our edges. The Brotherhood got a bigger piece of us than they should have.”
“You remember that?” King asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. But I’ve learned enough.” I rub my hand over the scar on my skull. “Should go check with Sophia. She felt something was off. That this was nothing to do with the marriage, but perhaps her father.”
“She wanted to marry him,” Luca says hoarsely as he lifts his head. “That’s why we keep coming. We know what she actually wanted. And it wouldn’t be you. It wouldn’t be this.”
“Like fuck you do. She told you she doesn’t want to be married to a stranger.”
“No?” Luca says and holds my gaze. “‘Cause she knows you so well?”
Deep down, I know exactly what he’s saying, and it reverberates through me. I say nothing in return, but don’t look away.
The motherfucker wants a stare down, I’ll give him one.
Knowing they are defeated, the Sicilians settle while we wait for Vincenzo Viscuso to arrive. But we’re disappointed about forty minutes later when it’s Alessio Viscuso who arrives in a flashy-looking red sports car.
A second car pulls up alongside it, and two men in black suits get out first. Then Alessio pushes open his car door.
Tension crackles through the lot. While only three of us stand outside to greet them, I know Saint is positioned on the club roof. Clutch, Halo, and Vex remain with the tied-up hostages, and Bates remains locked in the medical room with Niro and Cat to stop Niro from coming for a piece of Alessio.
Two vans pull up opposite the curb. There appears to be only one driver in each, and while this could quite possibly be a Trojan horse, they’d be foolish to pull that shit when Clutch has two Viscuso brothers in his sight. We instructed any vans to remain parked down the road.
Also, per our request, he raises his hands as he walks toward King, Spark, and me.
“Are my brothers still alive?” he asks. While I have no sympathy for him or his family, I can place myself in his shoes if this were my brothers. It’s the only reason I don’t pull my weapon.
King nods. “They are.” His words come out with little white puffs in the bitter night air. “Some of the others are not.”
I want to tuck my hands into my pockets but keeping them free to grab my weapon should I need to is more important.
The look of relief on my brother-in-law’s face as he absorbs the news is palpable.
“Grazzi a tia,” he says, then rolls his eyes at our blank faces. “Thanks to you. My father is old-school. And impulsive.”
“If that’s your pathetic way of apologizing for this fucking shit show…” Spark says.
Alessio glances at Spark but then turns back to King. “Can we talk? Man to man?”
“We’ve been clear with you,” I say without waiting for King to respond. “Sophia is married to me. We’re in the process of revoking the guardianship you have over her. You need to leave her alone.”
Alessio rubs a hand over his face. “You are fortunate to not be so governed by the old ways. My father does not want to lose face. Sophia is promised to my father’s best friend’s son. One of the oldest families who can trace their entire genealogy to a single town in Sicily.”
“So inbred then?” Spark asks and chuckles.
Alessio looks over to one of the vans on the street. “An illustration?” he says, then steps right into Spark’s space. There is barely an inch between their chests. “You might think you have the upper hand here. Your lot. Your rules. Your space.” A whirring sound starts. “But we no longer bring a gun to a pissing contest; we bring drones.”
