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“You've got some balls. I will give you that. You risked your very life to get that story. Was it worth it?” Nicolai asks.
“If it caused you pain, then yes,” I say with a big smile, starting to feel the effects of the whiskey. It is giving me liquid courage, my hands have stopped trembling, and my body feels relaxed. I take another sip. Luca’s fat hand tears the glass from mine, interrupting my liquid retreat.
I scowl at him. “Hey, I'm not finished!”
“You've had enough,” he declares. A vein pops out in his neck as his jaw tightens. He looks at me like a dad would a child, his expression screaming, behave! I look away, sulking.
“So, Miss Reed, is it justice you're seeking or vengeance?”
“Excuse me?” I sit up straighter.
“White male, twenty-two years old, multiple gunshots to the abdomen, body found in an alley dumpster, downtown Philly. Ring any bells?” His condescending tone vibrates through me as my body temperature rises to dangerous levels. I open my mouth to speak but slam it shut.
His eyes widen as the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Gang-related crime, I think the coroner's report said from memory.”
I suck in a ragged breath, my head clouds with fogginess, and bile in my stomach gurgles, threatening to rise. Logan.
“What do you know about my brother,” I spit venomously at him.
The smug bastard smirks, clicking his tongue. “Ah, now I have your attention, don’t I?”
I fly from my seat, lunging for him, teeth bearing and claws ready to attack but slam into Luca’s hard chest. I lash out in a feral fit, throwing my arms around and screaming. I am not a match for his strength, though. He twists my arms behind my back instantly, confining me from further attack.
“Settle the fuck down, red!” he warns, but I pay no attention to his caution.
“Did you kill my brother?” I growl at Nicolai, but as the words leave my mouth, I realize he is not the one that delivers death. He orders it. I tilt my head up to look at Luca and breathe my red-hot rage towards him. “You!” There is a coldness in his eyes, a cruel iciness that I cannot bear. My legs buckle beneath me as an overwhelming wash of grief and horror intoxicates me.
“Your brother was not the man you thought he was.” Nicolai’s voice brings me back to his attention.
Hot tears stain my cheeks as I stutter my words. “He wasn’t a man. He was just a kid.”
“Either way, he was the same thing you're against. A gangster.”
“You're lying,” I scream at him. “You're a liar! “
I struggle against Luca’s grip on me. “Get your filthy hands off me, you murderer,” I hiss. “I hate you.” My juvenile words bounce right off his cold callus heart as if I’d not even spoken a word.
He tightens his grip painfully, fingers biting hard into my flesh as his lips drawl back in a snarl.
“Stop it, red. You are only going to make it worse for yourself,” Luca warns me. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Iwatch Nicolai reach for his suit pocket. It is as if it all plays out in slow motion. Luca releases his grip on my arms, and I fall to the floor with a thud. This is it. This is the moment it all ends for me. My shoulders hunch over with defeat and so much regret.
“I am many things, Miss Reed, but a liar isn’t one of them. Here is your proof.” Nicolai’s words draw my head up as he throws some photographs onto the coffee table in front of him. I crawl desperately across the floor to the table and pick up the pictures. My heart shatters into a million pieces as I shuffle from one photo to the next.
The first photo is one of Logan, dressed like a bouncer standing outside a nightclub. The second one is of him standing in a shipping dock with a group of shady-looking men. Third, Logan assisting men usher some dirty and rag-torn women off a boat. Fourth, a side angle of him, gun tucked into the top of his pants. Each picture was worse than the one before, distancing me further and further away from the innocent young boy I grew up with.
I stare up at Luca, photographs still in hand. “Why? Why did you kill him?” Tears coat my words. Disbelief and horror gnawed at my already broken heart.
“He didn’t,” Nicolai speaks from behind me. I turn to him, frowning. “I did, or maybe it was one of my men. But it definitely wasn’t my brother.” I want to lunge at him again, but I am acutely aware two-hundred pounds of muscle is standing in my way, and my attempts would be futile.
“He was just a kid. How could you?”
“Maybe so, but that kid that was working for Juna Kastrati and aiding and abetting the capture of my brother.”
Piece by piece, the picture clears. I knew it! Deep down in my heart of hearts, I knew there was a connection between Juna Kastrati’s death and my brothers.
“Being an investigative reporter, I would have thought you’d have found that out yourself, but you were too busy prying into my family to see the facts right under your nose.”
“If you think I am a bad man, Miss Reed, Juna Kastrati trumps me ten times over. He was a high dealer in drug and flesh trafficking. Make no mistake, your brother knew exactly who he was working for and the dangers that came with it.”
