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“Trust Adamo to fall in love with a whore and be monogamous when she’s got about a dozen dicks up her pussy every day,” Savio said.

Nino made an impatient sound, obviously keen on watching the race in peace. One of the participants was currently being chased by three police cars. Bets if the fucker managed to escape or not were probably burying us already.

“You don’t know what’s going on. Maybe he only enjoys her skills.”

Savio scoffed. “She’s not bad but there are better whores out there.”

“It’s not like he has many to compare her to,” I said, growing tired of the discussion.

“One of these days he’s going to bring her over here and keep her,” Savio said.

The perspective switched to another drone camera, and my brows drew together. It briefly showed a few burning cars, some of them black limousines. The others were race cars. Then it changed back to the police chase.

“What the fuck was that?”

The front door swung open with a bang, steps thundered toward us. Nino put an arm over Kiara and pulled his gun. I rose with my own gun raised. Fabiano stormed into the living room, panting. “The Outfit attacked our territory!”

I froze. Savio jerked to his feet.

“What?” I growled. If Dante had set a single foot on Vegas ground, I’d walk into Chicago tomorrow. Then another thought struck me. “The race.”

Fabiano nodded. “The organizer from the Kansas race called a few minutes ago. There was an attack on the race. I think he called me because he thought it would stop you from killing him.”

Tough luck. I’d deal with him once I was done with the Outfit. “How long ago did they attack?”

“About an hour ago. There’s chaos over there. But the race is going on with the remaining cars.”

“Why didn’t they alert us sooner?”

“They didn’t know what was going on at first. When they realized it was the Outfit, they tried to divert the other race cars first so they could keep the race going.”

Kiara stirred. “What’s wrong?”

I pulled my knife, shaking, furious that Dante had attacked again. Nino stood, pulling Kiara to her feet. “Go to our bedroom.”

She looked at me, eyes widening, then nodded quickly and hurried away.

My phone rang. I picked it up and brought it to my ear. “Remo,” said a man. The voice was distantly familiar, but I couldn’t place it. The background noise suggested he was in a helicopter or small airplane. “This is Danilo Mancini. I’m calling to tell you we have your brother and we’re going to enjoy his screams like you enjoyed Serafina’s. Tell Nino to set up a Darknet connection for later so you can watch as we tear him apart. I will enjoy slicing him into tiny pieces.” He hung up.

It took my brain a few moments to process the information. “Call the Sugar Trap and ask if Adamo’s there,” I ordered.

Fabiano frowned but did as he was told. “Is Adamo there?” he asked without a greeting. “Then ask her.”

“Remo, what’s going on?” Nino asked carefully.

My phone beeped with an incoming message with detailed instructions for the connection.

I held it out to Nino, who took it from me, frowning. His mouth tightened when he read what the message said.

“He’s not there. Apparently he left last night. C.J. said he asked her to pretend she was with him because he wanted to join the race.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way my chest kept constricting.

Savio didn’t say anything, only stared at me. Fabiano had fixed himself a drink and downed it in one gulp.

Eventually Nino looked up from the phone. “We won’t be quick enough to save him.”

“There won’t be anything left of him to save when they’re done with him,” I got out, fury and a weaker emotion burning through my veins. Why couldn’t the kid have listened for once? Fuck it.

“Call Grigory. Tell him he can have Kansas if he attacks the Outfit.”

Nino nodded, and pressed the phone back to his ear as he walked back and forth in the room.

Savio ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck. We have to do something.”

From the words I caught, Grigory had no intention of getting involved. I flung my knife at the heavy bag. “Fuck!” I snarled before Nino had uttered a single word.

“He says this isn’t his fight.”

“Bastard,” Fabiano muttered.

“I will soon make it his fucking fight. For this, I will declare war on him and the fucking Bratva in Outfit territory.”

“Do you want me to set up the connection?” Nino asked quietly.

“Of course,” I growled. “If Adamo has to suffer, we will watch. We will suffer with him. Fuck it all!”

Nino didn’t move for a moment. Then he nodded slowly.

“We need to figure out where they are taking him,” I told Fabiano. He knew the Outfit better than any of us.

“I assume honor dictates that they take him to Minneapolis because that’s where her family lives. She wasn’t married to Danilo yet or they would have taken Adamo to his city to dish out punishment there,” he said.

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