Page 84 of Sinful Bride

"That's an interesting theory."

"Isn't it?" I hold his gaze. "Tell me something, Dante. When you came to me, when you said you wanted to defect from the Capettis—was that true?"

"Of course it was true." But there's an edge to his voice now. A hint of defensiveness. "I believe in what you're trying to do. Building alliances instead of starting wars. That's the future."

"Is it?" I stand up, moving around the desk. "Because it’s starting to look like the only thing I've built is a target on my back."

He stands too, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Boss, I don't know what you're implying⁠—"

"I'm not implying anything." I move closer, crowding his space. "I'm asking directly. Did you know about the attack?"

"No." But his eyes dart to the door, just for a second. "I swear, I had no idea⁠—"

"You're lying."

"I'm not⁠—"

"You are." I grab his collar, slamming him back against the wall. "And you're going to tell me the truth. Right now. Or I'm going to make you tell me."

His facade cracks. I see fear flash across his face. "I didn't know the specifics," he says quickly. "I swear, I didn't know when or where. I just—I heard rumors. That something was being planned."

"And you didn't think to warn me?"

"I thought it was just talk!" His voice is rising now, panic setting in. "I didn't think they'd actually do it. I thought⁠—"

"You thought what?" I tighten my grip. "That you could play both sides? Feed information to the Capettis while pretending to work for me?"

"No! I mean—" He's sweating now. "It wasn't like that. I was just… they asked me to keep an eye on things. To report back. But I wasn't… I didn't⁠—"

"You were a spy." My teeth grit together. "You came to me, pretended to believe in what I was doing, and all along you were gathering intelligence for the Capettis."

He doesn't deny it. The truth is written all over his face.

“You think I had a choice?” The words burst out of him suddenly, fury overtaking the fear. “You think I could just walk away from the Capettis without consequences? They would have killed me. They would have killed my family."

"So you got my men killed instead."

"I didn't—" His voice breaks. "I didn't know they were going to do that. I swear, I didn't know."

I want to believe him, that he's just a man trying to survive in a world that doesn't allow for mercy or mistakes. But I can't. Because eight of my men are dead, and this man—this fucking spy—is at least partially responsible.

"Who gave the order?" I ask.

"I don't know⁠—"

"Who. Gave. The order."

"I don't know!" He twists in my grip. "I reported to a capo. He reported up the chain. I never dealt with the don directly."

"What's the capo's name?"

He hesitates, just for a second. "Salvatore Russo."

I let him go, stepping back. He slumps against the wall, gasping for breath. "What are you going to do?" he asks.

"I'm going to call your former boss," I say. "And we're going to have a conversation about loyalty and consequences."

"Please—" He reaches for me. "Please, you don't understand. If you tell them I talked, they'll kill me. They'll kill my family⁠—"