I look at each of them in turn.
“You little bitch,” Carlos says, finally angry.
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere with the insults,” I say. “Though I’d still consider that one pretty misogynistic. I’m still waiting for something really good.”
“Luca always had a talent for taking what belonged to other men,” he says, enraged.
“And you thought you would return the favor.”
“He built a kingdom on my father’s bones.”
“Your father was weak.”
Carlo’s eyes flash. There it is. The first real crack.
“You do not know what Bruno Valenti was,” Carlo says.
I smirk. “I know he lost.”
Rocco gives a sharp laugh despite himself.
Carlo’s gaze flicks toward him.
It’s a small mistake, but I catch it.
They are not as united as they want me to believe.
Of course, they are not.
They have overlapping grudges, not loyalty.
I turn to Rocco and laugh, disgusted with myself but knowing it must be done. “Not as weak as your father, though, right, Rocco? And you want to blame mine for it?”
Rocco’s chair moves back, lightning quick.
The door behind him opens before he gets fully upright, and the room fills with Contis.
Standing behind everyone, in the doorway, is Adrian. I love that he couldn’t resist, that he couldn’t just stay up in the security room.
Rocco freezes.
For one second, his rage has nowhere to go.
Vito’s eyes flick to me, and I see the question in them.
I give him the smallest nod.
Nico’s gaze moves from Rocco to Damiano to Carlo with a kind of vicious satisfaction.
“You should sit down,” Nico says.
Rocco looks like he might do something stupid.
I almost hope he does.
Carlo says, “Sit down, Rocco.”
This time, the command carries less authority.
