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Roberto snorts. “So can I,” he grunts, pointing to the bandage on his neck. “But that ain’t who I’m worried about, Mr. Black.”
I frown. “Who else wants you dead?”
His face hardens. “Massimo Carveli.”
Fuck.
“Why would Massimo want you dead?”
Roberto smiles coldly. “Because of what I know about him that he knows I know.”
When I raise my brow, Roberto just purses his lips and shakes his head. “You don’t wanna know, counselor.”
“On the contrary, I actually need to know if you want me to help you, Mr. Chinellato. Again, you’re enjoying attorney client privilege here.”
He exhales slowly, looking away. “You can get me out of here?”
“I need six hours, at least. But yes.”
He nods. “Okay, fuck it.” Roberto slowly swivels his gaze back to me. “Two things. The first is that Massimo probably doesn’t want anyone looking too closely at that will his pops left, giving Massimo full control of the Carveli family.”
My brow cocks. “What do you mean?”
“I mean if it stinks like horseshit, counselor, you should open your eyes and look around for Mr. Ed.”
“Are you suggesting that will is fake?” I say grimly.
“I’m not suggesting a thing,” he mutters back. “I’m just saying I knew Luca, and he fuckin’ hated his prick of kid. He wasn’t going to leave him a goddamn dime. Yet now, the little shit is king.”
My fingers drum rapidly on the table between us, my pulse thudding.
“And the other thing?”
He swallows, looking away.
“Sometimes, counselor, it’s best to let things lie.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look, the will is the one that matters.”
I frown. “Mr. Chinellato, what else do you know about Massimo that he doesn’t want getting out?”
He taps his foot, his eyes darting around the yard nervously.
“You got a good relationship with that brother of yours, Mr. Black?”
The fuck? My brow furrows as I nod. “I do.”
“You got a sister too, yeah? You two get along?”
“We do.”
He nods, swallowing again before his gaze swivels back to me and intensifies.
“Mr. Chinellato, I need to know?—”
“You ever wonder where you came from, Mr. Black?”
