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“Gio’s asked me to try to get in contact with The Outfit capos.”
I frowned. “Why?”
My brother pinched the bridge of his nose, and I noticed the lines of strain setting into his youthful face. “He wants them to turn on Sergio. Elect a new boss, and I guess ally with the Famiglia.”
“And if they don’t?”
I knew the answer before Renzo said the words. “The Famiglia will kill everyone. Or at least the upper-level members. Capos, enforcers…”
“Luca…” I breathed.
“Even if the capos do turn, I can’t see Nero Verdi leaving Luca alive.” Ren looked away, and I knew he was trying to hide his feelings from me.
Luca was a stick in the mud, but he was our brother. He wasn’t evil like our uncle or as complicit as our father. He didn’t deserve to die.
Turning, I walked back toward the house.
Renzo jogged after me, leaves crunching beneath his boots. “Where are you going?”
When I didn’t answer him, he grabbed my shoulder and forced me to face him. “Emi, Gio’s in a meeting with his boss. In case you forgot, his boss is Nero Verdi, and regardless of how much he may care for you, he is still Giovanni Guerra. We are their captives. There’s nothing you can do.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I can probably get a message to Luca when I try to contact the capos.”
“No.” I shook my head adamantly. “If Gio found out you tried to warn Luca, he’d see it as a betrayal.” The memory of him putting a knife to Renzo’s throat flashed through my mind, and I felt sick. “We both know how he feels about that.”
For a single moment, I felt so fucking helpless, so useless in the face of powerful and awful men. I had no power, nothing but the Donato name, which meant less and less with each passing day—
“The Donato name,” I murmured more to myself than Ren.
He frowned at me, but I ignored him, striding the rest of the way to the house. He didn’t follow.
None of the guards stopped me as I went to Gio’s office. I pushed open the door without knocking, and every gaze turned to me.
Gio was at the window as usual. Another guy sat behind his desk, and Jackson was on the couch.
Then there was Una. As dangerous as all these men were, I knew the pretty little woman sitting on the desk, swinging her legs back and forth, was by far the greatest threat. She was completely at ease, casual in a way that only somebody lethal really could be. When my gaze met hers, she smiled and jerked her chin like we were sharing some secret.
Gio turned from his stalking spot and took two steps toward me as though he couldn’t help it. Then he seemed to catch himself and pause.
“You’re going to kill Luca,” I accused.
A frown crumpled his features as he strode forward. “That doesn’t concern you, Emilia.”
I laughed humorlessly, and he gripped my arm, trying to drag me from the room. There was an urgency to his movements, like he couldn’t get me out of there fast enough. “Seeing as he’s my brother, I’d say it has everything to do with me.” I yanked out of his hold, and we glared at each other for a beat, nothing but venom lingering between us.
“Luca Donato is the enemy.” A deep voice came from behind Gio, controlled, calm.
I turned my attention to the man behind the desk. He was broader than Gio but with the same athletic frame that fit perfectly in a suit. He might have been even more beautiful than Gio if it weren’t for the coldness in his hazel eyes. It was hard not to drop my gaze in submission.
This was Nero Verdi.
Just the thought of his name was enough to make me feel sick with fear. If Gio’s reputation was bad, then this man might as well be the devil himself. Women, children…he had zero morals. If someone got in his way, they died. I could expect no mercy from him.
“Luca is loyal to The Outfit, not my uncle specifically.” I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching, hoping I was right.
Luca had never had to be loyal to anyone but my uncle, but given the choice, I had to hope he would do better.
“He’ll act in the best interest of The Outfit. He’s honorable.”
“I doubt that, but even so, honor never saved anyone.” Nero laughed, his gaze raking me from head to toe. “Certainly not from me.”
“Sit, lisichka,” Una said, sweeping a hand toward the couch.
I had no idea what that word meant, but it sounded like an endearment.
I moved farther into the room and dropped onto the couch beside Jackson’s massive frame.
He leaned back and clasped both hands behind his neck. “Well, now, this should be interesting.” He grinned and winked at me, lessening the tension in the room slightly.
