Page 86 of Toxic

Gianni's expression softens. "What does that mean, Papà?"

Papà points in his face. "It means that you still don't know everything involved in making decisions for this family. You aren't aware of all the moving parts or things in the background that must be perfect for executing something like this. And it shows me that you haven't matured enough for me to hand over more control to you."

"That's not true!" Gianni blurts out.

Papà nods. "Ah, but it is."

Gianni scrubs his face. "Maybe if you informed us of how you're handling things, we wouldn't have to have these conversations."

More silence fills the room, thickening until oxygen feels nonexistent. I finally state, "Papà, we're only trying to protect the family. Please. Sit and let's discuss."

"I'm the one who decides how to do that!" he barks.

I hold my hands in the air. "Yes. We know. So let's discuss it."

His cheeks turn red. He stares us down, his eyes darting between both of us.

My heart beats harder against my chest cavity. I understand why he's upset. I wish he'd never heard our conversation and reprimand myself for not shutting the door while discussing this with Gianni.

Papà finally declares, "Tonight. We execute tonight. Vincent and Nico will go with the others and take them out."

The hairs on the back of my neck rise. "Why our new recruits?"

Papà crosses his arms and motions to us. "You two need to learn your place in this family. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. It's time you understood that you, along with Massimo and Tristano, need to start having others implement your orders. You've shown your hands enough for those in the family to understand your abilities. It is now time to test these new men you've brought into our family."

"Surely something this important needs to have us executing it," Gianni asserts.

A low growl rumbles in Papà's throat. "Your inability to recognize your love of violence influences how you see things. As the underboss, you're more valuable holding those in our family accountable."

"And there goes all our fun," Gianni mutters.

I cringe, wishing my brother would just shut his mouth for once.

"Exactly my point!" our father hurls.

To move things along, I interject, "He's just being sarcastic. Your orders are understood. Who else are we putting on this?"

Papà studies us a moment longer then responds, "You two decide. Let me know when it's complete." He moves toward the door then stops and spins. "By the way, if you ever cross me, I'll bring all of Italy down on you. And that's a promise." His gaze throws more daggers at us before he disappears.

I slap the back of Gianni's head when Papà is out of earshot.

"What the fuck!" Gianni shouts.

I fume, "No more talk about going against Papà. Do you understand?"

His nostrils flare, but he doesn't speak.

"Answer me," I demand.

"Fine. Let's put Amadeo and Manlio on this."

I nod, finding no reason our cousins won't execute the job to perfection. "Handle it and inform our brothers. I need to go." I leave him and head directly toward the garage, attempting to lose my unsettling feelings about what just happened between Papà and us.

When I get there, I assess my automobiles. A brief thought hits me that I wonder why I even have other vehicles. I almost always choose my Gemballa Porsche, and today is no different.

The moment the engine revs and I pull out, my anger dwindles. I turn out of the gate and shift, accelerating to fifty in no time. I hit the button on my phone and call my longtime assistant, Pina.

"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?" she answers.

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