Page 31 of Damaged & Deadly

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I couldn’t bring myself to sell it after Mom died. I used it as the base for the Rejects before we outgrew it.”

“And now?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” His gruff tone tells me he’s done discussing it, and I slip my hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze as a car engine roars outside, alerting us to Enzo and Dante’s arrival.

Both Cain and Oliver tense when we hear the car doors slam shut, the two of them eyeing the front door like the Devil himself is about to walk through it. I can’t help rolling my eyes. I may be surrounded by ruthless men who wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate a threat, but somehow I know for certain that they won’t harm each other.

“Behave,” I hiss, giving Cain a pointed look before I enter the hall to greet them, leaving the two of them in the living room.

“Hey,” I greet when I’ve pulled the front door open. Both men’s gazes run over me as if needing to see for themselves that I’m all in one piece before lifting up to my face.

“Good to see you, Spitfire,” Enzo murmurs, leaning down to kiss me. I bite my lower lip to squash my smile, liking that he’s no longer holding back.

Dante doesn’t say anything, though he doesn’t need to. He somehow manages to say more in one look than he ever could with words. His brown depths flare with possession and something softer, and I smile shyly at him. How he manages to make me feel like an embarrassed schoolgirl is beyond me, but that’s precisely what his bone-deep stares do.

“We’re in here.” They follow me into the living room, where Cain and Oliver are still standing, apparently not comfortable enough to sit until they've squared off against Enzo and Dante.

I blow out my cheeks, choosing to let the four of them size each other up while I claim an armchair in the corner of the room. There’s no way in hell I’m about to sit on one of the sofas and allow a pissing contest to take place.

My eyes dart back and forth between them while they stand off. Faces tight, both sets of men look the other up and down, getting a measure of the other. It’s kind of intriguing, and I just let myself watch the posturing for a while before speaking up. “Shall I get a tape measure? Do you want to compare the size of your dicks, or can we get down to business?”

Dante and Cain both grimace, while Enzo smirks cockily. It’s Oliver who speaks, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “No need, wouldn’t wanna embarrass them.”

I roll my eyes while Dante and Enzo bristle, but as I go back to watching them, I spot the undercurrent of similarities between them that I’m sure they’d all be horribly offended by if I dared point them out. Before I can analyze it further, Oliver steps back, falling onto the sofa behind him. The movement seems to break the tension, and Enzo follows suit. Crossing the room toward me, he claims the other couch, deliberately planting his feet wide so his shoe knocks against mine.

I quirk a brow.Seriously?

He just smiles back, knowing damn well what he’s doing, and I glance away, ignoring him as I wait for Cain and Dante to sit their asses down. After a long moment where they continue to glower at one another, they finally move to sit, and before any of them can say something to piss the other off, I get straight to the point of why we are here.

“Luc’s been gone for six days.” The mention of my brother and my severe tone garners their attention, and all four men turn to look at me. “I refuse to let another six days pass, so how are we going to get him back?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Cain says casually, throwing his ankle over his knee as he leans back in his seat, looking every bit at home. “You say he’s living with Santos, in the same tower block as Giovanni… so we storm the castle.” His gaze flicks to Dante. “You have access to the tunnels, right? They wouldn’t even see us coming.”

Dante glowers at me, and I just give him awhat?look. “We’re all on the same side,” I remind him.

Pursing his lips, he grits out, “Yes, but it won’t be that easy. My father has an extensive security detail. He has men stationed all over that building, inside and out. You’d have better luck breaking into the White House.”

Rising to the challenge, Cain raises a brow. “We have the manpower to face him. Along with the element of surprise… assuming you don’t go running to daddy, telling him everything we discuss here today.” His eyes narrow on Dante in warning, who then simply stares back at him blankly, not a trace of emotion on his face.

“I won’t.”

Cain scoffs. “Excuse me if I don’t take you at your word. I’m sure you can see how it looks from our perspective.”

A tense silence fills the room before Enzo leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he stares Cain straight in the eye, his expression pensive. “Whatever reason you have for hating the Antonellis, I assure you, our reasons for hating Giovanni are just as warranted.”

“Oh yeah? Did he kidnap your eleven-year-old sister from her home and do god knows what with her?”

My heart breaks at the pain and fury in Cain’s voice, and I desperately want to go and sit in his lap, but I don’t. He wouldn’t want me to comfort him, not with Enzo and Dante watching.

Enzo drops his head, staring at the floor as he contemplates his response. “No,” he eventually says, dragging out the word. “He didn’t.” Once again, meeting Cain’s furious gaze, he confesses, “But he did kill my parents in front of me.” My gaze flicks to Cain and Oliver, noting their wide-eyed looks of surprise before Enzo continues, drawing my attention back his way. “Giovanni can’t stand disloyalty. He hates traitors, especially when it comes from those closest to him. The very fact we are here having this conversation is reason enough for him to sign-off on our deaths.” His words hang in the air before he brushes them under the rug and gets back on topic. “The tunnels could work, but Dante’s right. It won’t be an easily won fight.”

“I’d be disappointed if it was.”

The five of us spend the rest of the afternoon hashing out a plan. Between the seriousness of what we’re discussing and the tension in the air, it’s an exhausting afternoon, and I have a headache by the time we call it a day. All of us are in agreement that we’re better off making our move sooner rather than later before Giovanni catches wind of his son’s betrayal.

“You coming?” Enzo asks me when they get up to leave.

“I have my bike with me. I’ll follow you.”

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