Page 84 of Of Murder and Matrimony

“It’s something,” I muttered. Stefano pulled up to the curb in the SUV, but I couldn’t leave just yet.

Before my men could cover me, I stepped out of the shadows, waiting for Adrik to notice me. He yelled something at his men, his arms waving when Yuri pointed, reaching for his gun. Adrik whirled around, his eyes latching onto mine.

Lit by the streetlight above, I pulled my ski mask off and gave him a chin tilt, waving just as Yuri raised his gun. My SUV cut off the bullet when Stefano gunned the vehicle in front of me, and I climbed in, settling into my seat as we tore off into the night.

Cosimo laughed, and I joined in, the adrenaline rush making me feel invincible. I hoped Olesya laughed when she learned what I’d done for her.

We headed back to the main house, still smelling of smoke and chemicals as we moved through the foyer and up the stairs to my office. I dropped into my chair, and Cosimo did the same opposite my desk.

“Happy?” he asked, propping his ankle on his opposite knee.

“No.” I ran my hand over my face and hair, hissing when I encountered a sliver of glass. The shard gleamed in the light when I held my hand up, and I plucked it from under my nail and tossed it in the trash. I sucked on my finger, the bitter iron flavor staining my tongue. “I won’t be content until my wife is at my side.”

I heard footsteps echoing down the hall before my father stormed into my office, his face a mottled red with anger. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, blowing up buildings?”

“You suggested retaliation that would make a statement,” I pointed out.

“I told you to take out the brothers.” He slammed his fists against my desk, and Cosimo rose from his seat, tipping his head and watching with hawk-like eyes. “You blew up a brothel and didn’t even kill any of the whores.”

Word traveled fast among the Neretti men. I wanted to know which one ran to my father like a tattletale. I figured he wouldn’t find out until morning, which would have given me time to sleep for a few hours before dealing with one of his hissy fits.

“The whores are innocent,” Cosimo said slowly, his fingers flexing next to his sheathed knife.

“Nobody is fucking innocent in war,” my father shot back, though his posture closed as he faced his spare. “Go home, Cosimo.”

My brother glanced at me, waiting for my nod before turning and leaving without another word. It was an obvious slight against my father that he deferred to my authority and didn’t offer respect to his Don.

Ettore Neretti was too afraid of his enforcer to confront him directly. You could never tell what would send Cosimo over the edge into one of his states. And nobody wanted to be the target of his calculated fury.

When my father turned to Filippo and Stefano, they bowed slightly and backed out of the room, closing the door behind them. I stood alone in a room with the man who had made me what I was. Only, I wasn’t as much like him as he wished. I still had some moral compass, while my father had discarded his blood-soaked scruples decades prior if he ever had them to start with. It was difficult to imagine him as a child with a conscience.

“I’ll give you another chance,” he said, pacing before my desk. “Blow up the brothers. Take enough men to target their main building.”

Ice filled my veins at the implication. “My wife is in that building.”

“I think it’s moot at this point,” he said with a careless wave. “Level it.”

“No.”

My father stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel to face me. “What did you say?”

“I said no, I will not blow up their building,” I repeated slowly, with emphasis, standing to face him. “And I’ll tell the men to disregard the order if you try to bypass me.”

“Watch how you speak to me,” my father hissed with a sneer, throwing his shoulders back and attempting to look taller.

“Perhaps it’s you who should be careful,” I replied coolly. “Without Mamma here, there’s nobody I feel inclined to protect. Do you think the guards would come running if I gutted you and left you to bleed out on the floor?”

His eyes widened, realization crossing his face. I was no longer the subordinate son he could walk all over. Somewhere along the line, I’d come into my own and realized that my power was increasing even as my father’s waned.

We stood in a silent standoff, neither of us willing to look away first. I watched my father’s throat work as he swallowed, the pulse on the side of his neck, the hint of a tremor in his fingers.

“Get. Out.” Baring my teeth, I leveled him with a deadly glare, ensuring he understood my threat was not idle.

“You’ll regret this,” he spat, straightening his suit jacket with shaking hands. He rushed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs until they ached, then let it out slowly. My entire body was electric, the current of power pulsing through my veins.

It was time for the Neretti Don to retire.

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