Page 115 of His Sinful Need

Max gives a chuckle that sounds like he’d rather eat nails. “Nope. That’s Esposito business. You can keep that to yourself.”

“Thanks for the shout-out back there, by the way. Think Marty G just about passed out when you said I was a decent Capo.”

“Just call me your hype man.” Max grins, but adds, “It’s just the truth, Bricker. One day maybe you’ll believe it.”

Maybe one day. “Listen, there’s something else you need to know.” He shifts in his seat like he doesn’t like the sound of that, but I go on before I lose my nerve. “My mother—the woman my dad was with, had a child with? It was Anna-Vittoria.”

There’s a long, long silence, and I keep my eyes fixed on the road. At last, Max lets out a long breath. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. She likes to keep it quiet.”

Another long silence. I’m starting to feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite, given how I acted when Max was hiding something from me.

“Can’t say I blame her,” Max says at last. “Sandro’s mother was the same, up until recent—and Julian had a lot to contend with over the years, people thinking what they thought about his Mom. I assume your mother keeping quiet about her offspring was intended as protection?”

Hegetsit. Gets it so fast that it makes me fall that little bit harder for him. “Yeah. Nico’s heritage is more of an open secret in the Family, and he’s had to put up with more bullshit than I do.”

“Who’s—” He breaks off with a tut at himself. “Ah, never mind.”

“Who’s Nico’s father?” I finish for him with a small smile. “Can’t you guess? Who’s the one guy who’s always with her?”

Max stares at me. “TheShadow?I never would’ve…” With a laugh, he turns his face to the window for a moment. When he speaks again, he’s serious. “But there are people in the Family who know you’re her son?”

“The Shadow knows. The Baron. Marty G and most of the senior Capos. They were around when she was pregnant, you know—hard to hide. Anyway, I’m telling you now because I trust you and because I think you should know. She’s a secretive woman, the Maestra. Not without cause, but sometimes…”

“Sometimes secrets cause more trouble than the truth.” I wait for him to give me shit for keeping that a secret, given my complete freak-out at finding out his. But he just says, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“You should rip me a new one,” I tell him. At his bewildered expression, I point out, “I lost my shit when I found out about you and Dad. You find out a secret like this, and you just take it on the chin?”

Max gives a small shrug. “How else am I supposed to take it? The way I see it, it’s Esposito business. Me and your father, well. That’s different.”

I take that in, but I can’t help feeling unbalanced still. “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe it’s different. Maybe it’s not. But I should’ve given you a chance to explain.”

“You did,” he says simply. “After a cooling-off period,” he adds, and we both chuckle. “And now we understand each other. So let’s move on, eh? We’ve got a job to do. We can talk more once it’s done.”“

“Yeah. Let’s get this fucker. Blood for blood.”

“Blood for blood, Capo.”

* * *

Several days later, once we’ve done our scouting and gathered more intel, the deep hours of the night find Max, Jazz, Tank, Van and me grouped outside the chain link fence surrounding PacSyn’s section of the docks. A convenient hole has already been cut into it.

Max glances at his watch. “Thirty seconds,” he murmurs. “On my mark.” We’re running this like a damn military operation, and I’m glad about it. Van and Max planned it out together, and they make a surprisingly good team—Van is tactical, Max more strategic, and we needed both for this.

Max raises his hand, counting down silently with his fingers. When his fist closes completely, Jazz and Tank take off, slipping through the hole in the fence and disappearing behind stacks of containers. Two minutes later, it’s Van’s turn.

Five more minutes, and it’s ours.

With Max, I duck through the hole, and we make our way toward the warehouse where PacSyn likes to store their most expensive imports. Max pauses as a group of PacSyn soldiers exit one of the warehouses, glancing around, then start ambling around the structure.

Guard shift, right on time.

Max and I move forward, pressing ourselves into the shadow of a container as another guard appears in the doorway, and sets out after his compatriot, who has just disappeared around a corner.

We reach the side of the warehouse unchallenged and the door there is unlocked, just as our scouts suggested it would be. We won’t have to waste time picking the lock.

The interior is dim, cavernous, and seemingly unoccupied. I follow Max as he moves on silent feet, our senses alert for any sign of guards. But the space remains eerily quiet.

---