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“Fucking Marco,” Devil hissed. “Lying piece of shit.”

Angelo laid a hand on his shoulder. “If he’s been playing us after all, he’s dead. We all know that. He may have gotten word about our plan for Sandrini somehow or followed one of our men.”

Sandrini and his family had gone to ground before our attack on them, indicating Marco wasn’t our leak, but Angelo was right, he could have gotten the information another way. “We knew that one test wasn’t going to be enough,” I said. “Go on, Peter.”

“Last night, Jimmy went to my uncle, begging for money. My uncle stayed at his bar after closing, and Jimmy came back and tried to rob the place. My uncle ran him off, but he dropped a piece of paper. It had one word written on it and a time. DiGiulio’s. Eight o’clock.”

“Fuck,” was Devil’s only response.

“Where is your cousin now?” I asked.

Peter shook his head. “I don’t know. He ran, and Uncle Mac told him not to come back.”

“Why didn’t you say something when you first saw him?” Angelo asked.

“I didn’t know if it was relevant.”

“Were you hoping to protect him?”

Peter shook his head. “He’s my cousin, but he doesn’t care about me or my uncle, only about himself. And I—”

“Who are you loyal to?”

“My uncle.” He looked at me. “And Lucien.”

“That’s enough.” I brought my hand down on the table beside me, startling everyone. “Peter gave us the information. Now we need to figure out what to do with it.”

“We change nothing,” Devil said. “We do the launch as planned and double our security. No matter who the Riccis have been talking to, they don’t have the network we do. They won’t get through our people, but we’ll get to see who’s willing to move against us.”

“I am changing one thing. I’m not bringing Peter.”

Peter laid a hand on my thigh. “If they know about me, won’t that tip them off?”

“It could,” Angelo said. “We know he’s on their radar already. If we’re going to continue like nothing’s happening, you need to bring him. You’d never attend a function like this without a pretty boy on your arm.”

I knew they were right, but the thought of putting Peter in danger soured my stomach. I’d sworn to protect him, and I could be putting a target on him instead.

“We’ll use our best people. I can even call Giorgio.”

“I’m not sure that’s necessary.” Giorgio was the best sniper in the business. He scared even me.

“And if they do make a move, the publicity will work in our favor,” Angelo said.

I glared at him. “If people get shot while they’re eating dinner, that will not bring us a rush of customers.”

Devil shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But that’s also not going to happen.”

Angelo nodded. “Finding out someone tried to make a move on elusive bad boy Lucien Marchesi but he foiled their attempt will absolutely bring customers in.”

I looked at Peter. His eyes were wide, and he looked ready to bolt. He’d put his trust in me. He’d chosen to stay, chosen loyalty to me over his cousin—not that his cousin deserved a damn thing from him—and now I was putting him in danger.

Sabrina was right. He wasn’t just a man I was fucking. He wasn’t just something beautiful that I longed to possess. I’d never felt this protective of any of the men I’d been with. Feeling the way I did about him made me vulnerable, and that made him a liability. If I had more self-discipline, I’d send him to a safehouse to protect us both. But I knew I wasn’t going to do that. I needed him now more than ever. There were days when I thought he might be the only thing keeping me sane as I dealt with the pressure of fending off our enemies, securing the loyalty of our allies, and making it all look effortless.

17

Peter

The day of DiGiulio’s opening, Sabrina asked me to have a cup of tea with her. We sat in a room at the back of the house where Lucien had put in a picture window that let the afternoon sun pour in. The rich red walls added to the warm, cozy feel, but despite that, I was on edge, wondering what Sabrina wanted to say to me.

“Is something wrong? I know Angelo doesn’t trust me, but—”

“I trust you, Peter. In fact, I wanted to tell you I think you’re good for Lucien.”

“Really? You think that?”

“Yes. I know he’s not always easy to live with.”

Was I supposed to disagree? “Um… He’s—”

“No need to try to defend him, but I want you to know that he needs your support tonight.”

“He’ll have it, but why?”

“Did he tell you that DiGiulio was his mother’s maiden name?”

I shook my head.

“He named the restaurant in honor of her, and it’s his pet project, the first thing he’s done all on his own. If things go badly, he’s going to take it personally.”

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