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“All of you thugs deserve your fate.” She scoffs and tries to jab her hands into the wall again, but I squeeze her arm tight to keep her still.
She touched a nerve. To dismiss my fallen brothers as nothing but thugs makes me want to bash her head into the dresser. But I quickly calm. I’m the levelheaded one. Always have been.
That’s why I’m still alive.
Sal bursts into the room with what I ask for, and only then do I carefully undo her wiry shackles.
“Damn.” Sal dabs alcohol on a cloth and begins to clean the wounds. “We need to wrap you in pillows or something.”
“Fuck you!” She kicks at him, and he laughs.
“Wow. True to your kin, huh? You Rigianos never make anything easy for us.” Sal wraps the wounds while I hold onto her arms.
She fidgets weakly.
“Get her some water,” I command.
“Boy, oh boy, Ellie. You’re going to bleed this house dry, aren’t you?” Sal says over his shoulder, disappearing down the hall.
Her angry eyes are bloodshot, hair disheveled just enough to be sexy. Even now I want to fuck her, when she’s at her weakest and most insufferable. Especially so.
Ellie smiles angrily. “Why don’t you just sic the immigrants on me. That’s what they’re for, right? Hits. My father only brought them around when he was at his most serious. Then they’d be shipped back after the deed is done. I know your games, Donny.”
I clench my jaw. “They aren’t for you.”
It wasn’t a lot, but saying even that was too much. What will it matter anyway? She’ll be gagged and delivered in twenty-four hours’ time.
Chapter 4
Donny
Sal, Johnny, and the Sicilians surround me. I’m playing it cool, leaning over the kitchen island. Headlights shine through the curtains, brightening everyone’s faces. The crew stiffens.
He’s here. Gio Valentino.
My father.
Johnny the Scar says we’re alike. But I disagree. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing we share is a pulse, while the rest of my family sticks their necks out an inch too far.
Eh, he might have a point. We’re both survivors. Ruthless ones.
The door unlatches and my father limps in with two burly muscle-heads framing him. He has parted salt-and-pepper hair – like a skunk – not a lock out of place. That limp of his is looking damn painful today. He hides it behind that scowl he’s so good at wearing, but I can tell. No matter how many times I tell him to get a cane, he refuses. ‘It’s for the weak. This family is strong.’
Machismo for the sake of machismo makes him an idiot.
Gio scans all of us with a wry smirk and walks up to Johnny Scar first. He slaps the back of his neck as a sign of affection, and kisses him once on the cheek while eyeing me. He knows what he’s doing. Trying to get in my head – telling me that his old dog is still loyal to him. I know otherwise, though, but will never show it.
My energy is better spent waiting until he’s done puffing his chest, taking his time to kiss everyone. He situates himself at the head of the island. Everything is so annoyingly calculated.
“Donny.” My father can’t contain his smile. “I heard we were able to capture a very special birdie far away from her nest.”
I worry how focused he is on revenge. We have a serious drop-off and a hard hit to pull off tomorrow night… and all he cares about is Ellie Rigiano.
Ironically, she’s all I can think about too.
“There’s a blizzard in the basement that’s a little more important,” I say.
“Oh, ho, ho,” Gio’s voice is raspy and deep. “You forget how untouchable the Rigianos were, once upon a time. Now you capture this family a symbol of our growing power.” He tilts his head. “The Valentinos own the streets of New York now, boys. That bird you have upstairs proves it.”
