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“You have her,” I reply.
Gil was one of the first people to visit me in prison and pledge his loyalty outside of the immediate family, even though Capello had declared himself the Don of New Alderney. He’s been a loyal supporter over the five years of my incarceration. I even consider him a friend.
“She’s coming over,” Gil says with a snicker.
I roll my eyes. Nothing about this woman stands out apart from her boldness. Compared to Emberly, she’s a clone of every other overdressed girl on the dance floor.
“Deal with it.”
Gil rises from his seat and raises his palm, most likely telling her that this section is for VIPs only. She waves a flier in his face that I can only assume was the one Benito shoved through Emberly’s mailbox.
I sit up in my seat. Is she the roommate?
Gil wraps an arm around the blonde’s shoulder and hands her a card, which she slips in her pocket, just in time for a gray-haired bastard wearing too much fake tan to approach our table.
He’s built like a lightweight boxer, wearing a black turtleneck that stretches to his chin. It’s Tommy fucking Galliano himself.
Strangely, I thought he would send his less aggravating brother, Matty.
I bring my glass to my lips, keeping my expression neutral. Coming here instead of sending a representative was an insane move. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s brought backup in case I punch him in the throat.
He flashes me a smile of teeth so white they turn blue in the strobe lights. “Is this seat taken?”
I gesture for him to sit.
The man lowers himself into the armchair beside mine, and I swear I hear the creak of his leather pants over the loud music.
“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing your face in New Alderney,” I growl.
“Is that any way to speak to your stepfather?” he deadpans.
Hot fury surges through my veins, making every muscle tense. That fucker will die for luring our mother to New Jersey, but not before the time is right.
Galliano raises his brow in a silent request for me to lash out, which only confirms my suspicions that he’s trying to provoke a war.
“She stopped being your wife when she died,” I say.
He rubs his chin with a gloved hand and smirks.
My jaw clenches. I refuse to let this scaly bastard slither under my skin.
“You’re right,” I say, my voice even. “I forgot my manners. Let me be the first to offer my condolences on the loss of the entire Capello branch of your family.”
His features darken. I would bet my left nut that the reptile sitting beside me helped Capello ruin us. I’m going to look forward to filling him with bullets.
“What are your intentions toward Emberly Kay?” he asks.
I tilt my head. “Emberly who?”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t fuck with me, boy. Everyone knows you have Cousin Freddy’s girl.”
Leaning back in the chair, I hold my features in a cold mask. With Samson dead, Emberly is next in line for the inheritance. If she dies, Capello’s wealth goes straight to Galliano.
I need to choose my words carefully. Emberly is the only thing standing between Galliano and the Capello millions. If a runt like Samson can bribe one of my men to kill Emberly, there’s no telling how Galliano would stop us from reclaiming our property.
“I served five years on death row because your cousin framed me for murdering a woman,” I say through clenched teeth. “Now, it’s time for me to earn that sentence.”
The corners of Galliano’s lips twitch. He doesn’t give a fuck that Emberly is his blood relative. All he cares about is what he stands to inherit once she’s dead.
