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Vincenzo grimaced. “Nyla Sartori, you’ve made the worst mistake of your life.”
Oh no. A cold chill ran up my spine.
He knows my real name.
It would’ve been better if I’d been killed with Mark. Now that Vincenzo knew my real name, he could easily get rid of me and leave no witnesses who wanted to search for me or ask questions about my whereabouts. He could find and kill everyone who loved me enough to ask questions—and anyone else, he could pay to look the other way.
I fucked up three days ago.
Chapter 6
Vincenzo
Savio watched me as I reached for the glass of bourbon. He’d been quiet since calling the meeting earlier. After picking up Nyla from the warehouse, I had her shower and change because she smelled like shit. She was lucky she was still alive. She had my brothers to thank for staying my hand. Elio had carried out a background search and discovered her real name was Nyla Sartori, the niece of Cono Sartori, a mob boss in Chicago. We had no relationship with him as our businesses never crossed. Did Nyla know her uncle trafficked women?
“She ran away from Cono’s protection and has lived independently since she was twenty,” Elio explained.
“Her parents died in a car crash?” I investigated, seeing the photos of the crash and newspaper reports.
“You can’t kill her,” Savio spoke up.
I slammed my hand on the table. “Either she gives me back the five million, or she dies.”
“The money will be recovered. We have people researching his loan sharking,” Savio explained.
“It’s about principles. She set me up,” I grunted in reply.
“Vincenzo’s right. We let her slide, and we come off weak,” Renato backed me up.
Savio stared at him. “How many times have I explained you're not getting involved.”
I surged to my feet. “Am I a part of this family or not?”
“Sit down,” Savio barked.
Elio raised his hand. “Vincenzo, show some respect. Sit down.”
“She played you, and you’re pissed. It’s understandable, but you're so angry that you’re making mistakes,” Sante noted.
I flipped him off. “Fuck you, Sante.”
Apart from Renato, my family saw me as the little brother, the baby to protect. He knew how hard I’d worked, how my father had taught me to shoot a gun at twelve. I’d been out on jobs with my brothers when someone crossed out our family or messed with our money.
Swallowing my anger, I sat in my chair. If I couldn't get my money back or kill Nyla, I’d become a ruthless asshole likes of which they’d never seen.
Elio finished talking. “Cono Sartori is protected, A Don. Untouchable.”
“Word on the street is that Mark had a gambling problem. He lost a lot of money and owed a loan shark,” Savio said.
“He was a gambler and a drug addict. We have the information on the loan shark,” Renato said, his eyes on his phone.
I nodded. “Let’s ride.”
Sante stood. “We have family dinner later.”
I shook my head. “Not hungry.”
“Tell that to your parents and see what happens.” Savio slapped me on the back of the head.
