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The remaining men left with bowed heads until only Matteo and I remained with our father. I got down on my knees beside them again.
Father gasped in a ragged breath, growing paler and paler. “You…you traitorous….”
Matteo ripped the transfusion needle out and we both bent over our father. The man who’d tortured us and his wives, who’d driven our mother into suicide, he’d finally disappear.
“We would have killed you with poison soon. It would have been painless,” Matteo murmured, then paused with a twisted grin as he regarded the bullet wound in Father’s stomach. “I prefer it like this. With your last moments filled with agony.”
Father sucked in a rattling breath. He tried to move, to look for help, but Matteo and I barred everyone’s view, and I doubted anyone was even watching. They were giving us time to say goodbye. “That whore set you up to this…”
For a moment I thought he meant Nina, but then it dawned on me whom he was talking about: Aria.
“Lead you around by your dick,” he spat in disgust. “Wish…wish I’d fucked her before you.”
I leaned even closer to him and shoved one of my fingers into the wound in his stomach as fury consumed my veins in a raging fire. Matteo pressed a palm over his mouth to stifle the screams.
“You won’t ever touch my wife, Father. Aria’s a queen, and I’ll treat her like one. I won’t be like you. Your legacy dies today. Matteo and I will make sure of it.”
Father’s chest heaved more and more, and blood trickled out between Matteo’s fingers still pressed against Father’s mouth.
“I’ll tell Nina you suffered through your last minutes. She’ll be ecstatic to hear it. Maybe Matteo and I will toast your death with her with your favorite bottle of wine,” I growled. Father’s eyes bulged and he convulsed and then went still. I pulled my finger out of his wound and Matteo released his mouth, and for a moment everything was silent.
Matteo’s and my eyes met, our hands covered with our father’s blood. Matteo gripped my shoulder. “He’s gone.”
Gone. Finally gone from our lives.
My eyes took in the mess in the restaurant. Bullets from Russian guns littered the ground. “A traitor must have told the Bratva where to find him. Very few people knew.”
“Probably one of our uncles.”
“Probably. The question is how many men were involved beside them, and how to prove it.”
“We—“
“Down!” Cesare screamed. Shots rang out. Matteo and I dropped to the ground as bullets barreled through the restaurant. I pulled my gun as I crawled toward the bar. Matteo was close beside me. Outside, my men were shouting and firing.
Peering out behind the bar, I tried to make out our attackers. They must have been waiting for our arrival on nearby rooftops, or someone had alerted them that Matteo and I had come to see our father. A fucking traitor in our ranks. I started firing bullet after bullet in the direction of the shooters, letting my fury consume me, letting it guide my actions. Eventually the flashing lights of the police filled the dark. I shoved my gun into my pants before I walked out of the restaurant with raised arms, my pulse pounding in my temples. Cesare was trying to talk with the police, but they had their guns drawn. He pointed toward me. One of the police officers approached me while his colleagues aimed their guns at my men and me. “You’re in charge?”
For a moment I only stared at the man before reality sank in. Everyone was watching me as I stood covered in blood amidst broken glass. This mess was my responsibility now. My men expected me to find the people responsible, to dish out revenge, to keep the Famiglia together. “I’m Capo of the Famiglia.”
I barely listened to the officer. This was none of their business. It was mine, and I’d handle it. I’d find the men who’d worked with the Bratva to kill my father and tried killing Matteo and me—again.
My anger spiraled higher and higher. Soon the area was swarming with Famiglia soldiers and police. My father’s Consigliere Bardoni arrived not long after. “Where’s our Capo?”
I glared down at him. My father’s man through and through. “He stands in front of you.”
Bardoni’s eyes widened, then he plastered that slimy smile on his face. “My condolences. I’m sure you and your brother need time to grieve. I can take over business until you feel ready.”
I gave him my coldest smile. Did he really think I’d allow him to take control? I didn’t trust him one bit, but whom could I really trust at this point? My eyes took in the men around me. Matteo always. Cesare maybe. But everyone else could be a traitor. “I don’t need time. I will rule over the Famiglia, and Matteo will be my Consigliere from this day on.”
