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“Scava? Angus Scava’s nephew? What the hell would he have had to do with anything? The brand on Castellano’s chest is the Benedetti family crest.”

“Then you believe it was our uncle who ordered it?”

“I don’t know what I believe, and I’m tired of thinking about it. I’m sorry Mateo was killed, but nothing will bring him back, and my knowing—or your knowing—won’t change that. Stay out of it, Dominic.”

“Victor Scava is involved in human trafficking. Mateo was going to turn over evidence. That’s why he was silenced. Made an example of.”

“Stay the fuck out of it,” Salvatore repeated.

“Too fucking late for that.”

“What are you talking about? How do you know all this?”

“I’ve got Gia Castellano. She witnessed the murder. Scava branded her too. Same mark.” I paused, but I needed to tell him everything now. In a way, it was a sort of confession. Although I had no hopes of redemption. Hell, wasn’t I way beyond wanting it? “She’s due to go to auction in a week.”

“Due to go to auction? What the hell does that even mean?”

He knew what it meant. It was the one thing the Benedetti were not involved in. One thing where Franco, his father before him, and his father before him, had put their foot down on. No human trafficking.

Fucking saints, the lot of them.

“Any chance Roman could be involved with Victor Scava in something like this?” I pushed.

“Human trafficking? No. No way. Where exactly are you, and why do you have the girl?”

“If he’s not involved, then why would Mateo have been branded with the Benedetti mark? Why not quietly kill him and get rid of the body? I mean, we all know how to get rid of a fucking body if that’s what we want to do. Scava was sending a message. I want to know what that message is, and how the Benedettis are involved.”

“This is fucked up, Dominic.”

“No shit.”

“Roman knows—”

“And he doesn’t give a shit. He’s king now. You made him that, remember?”

“If he betrayed our father—”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, counting to ten. I’d let this one slide.

The pause told me he realized his mistake. “Where are you, and where’s the girl?” he asked.

“Vermont.”

“Vermont? You hate the cold.”

“I’m surviving.” What, were we going to make fucking small talk?

“What do you mean with taking her to auction? You can’t be involved in anything like that.”

“I’m already involved.” Nearly a dozen girls involved.

Salvatore sighed. “Tell me about the auction.”

“Ten, maybe twelve girls. Enough buyers invited to make the bidding interesting.”

“Jesus.”

I snorted.

“Do you know who’ll be attending?”

“No.”

“Can you find out?”

“There isn’t exactly a guest list to these sort of events.”

Salvatore paused at my remark. “Has our uncle been to one before?” he asked, a note of caution to his question.

“Why buy the product when he’s the supplier?” The more I thought about it, the guiltier Roman grew. The more I saw how he was always there, watching, silent, having earned Franco’s trust like no one else had, not even his sons.

“No. No way. He’s our fucking uncle, Dominic. Better than our father ever was to us.”

“Your father. Your fucking father.”

“Let it go already.”

“You try finding out you’re not who you thought you were for twenty-eight fucking years then let it go already.”

Another long silence filled the space, “I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Exactly how much do you know about the auction?”

“It’s not my first.”

“Are you buying girls?”

“Providing trained girls.”

“Jesus.”

Fuck. I hung my head, shaking it. What the fuck was I doing? How many lives had I destroyed? How many more would I crush? All to prove to myself and the world the scum I was? God. Fuck. Putting a bullet in my own head would have been better than this.

“Dominic?”

“Yeah,” I said, wiping the back of my hand across my nose.

“We have to do something about the auction.”

I heard the we. And I knew what I needed to do.

I stood.

“No. Not we. Me. You’re not involved, not anymore, remember? You did good, getting yourself and Lucia out. Keep her safe now. Keep your family safe. Don’t tempt fate twice.” It had started out spiteful, but that last part, I meant it.

He paused, and I could almost hear him preparing to argue with me. But he didn’t. His family came first. Just like it should.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to find out if Roman’s involved first.”

“It doesn’t make sense, Dominic. He wouldn’t be involved in something like this. You’ve already tried and convicted him in your mind. And you’re on your own, remember that.”

Meaning I had no backing. None.

“I won’t be on my own.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mateo’s sister. She knows at least some of what’s going on. And she wants revenge for her brother’s murder.”

“She’s a woman. Untrained. Innocent, maybe. She’s a victim. You can’t involve her any more than she already is.”

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