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Maybe I’m a hypocrite, talking about loyalty and trust, when I’d sold out my bosses so I could become a capo in Nico’s organization instead.
“I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” I answer, and this time when I take his hand, Santino stays still. “It’s the two of us, Santino. The rest of the world is out to fuck us over, but I know I can trust you. I’ll keep our home—us—safe. We don’t need traitors like Angelo or Lucia for that.”
Santino bristles, yanking his hand back, and I realize I’ve gone a step too far. “They aren’t traitors,” he says hotly, all softness and uncertainty gone in the wake of his anger. “You pushed them away, Victor. If you’d just been honest with them and told them how much you valuedthem, they’d still be here. Even Lucia! Then we wouldn’t be losing this fucking war against Bellini, Pavone, whoever.”
I sigh and sit back, rubbing my temple. “Fine. What do you propose, then? They’ve made their feelings on the matter clear.”
“You want my opinion now?” he asks snidely. “You only ever ask when it’s too late.”
I glare at him, and at least he has the sense to look apologetic.
“Sorry. I just mean…” Santino looks away from me. “It was nice. With Lucia. And you ruined it because you had to stay in control, and now we’re picking up the pieces, but I don’t even know if there’s anything left to save.” He shrugs. “We could ally with Pavone. Since everybody else is doing it.”
“No,” I answer immediately. “That’s not happening.”
“Why not? It would get Angelo back, and we’d be closer to Lucia.”
“Because—” I stop before I say something very ill-advised. Unlike Santino, I don’t think with my cock, and I don’t let a pretty girl—or boy—dictate my actions. “Because I didn’t work this hard just to be in second place, again. If we ally with Pavone, he’s going to be calling the shots. I’ll be dead before that happens.”
“You might be dead soon anyway,” Santino points out sourly. “Things aren’t exactly going well, and with Angelo gone…”
“We still have Celio and Floriano, along with plenty of other capable men,” I tell him. “This little… skirmish isn’t going to change course because of one man.” Angelo might be formidable, but I still have men on my side who will fight and fight well.
“But it’s already going so badly—”
“Santino,” I interrupt him, “let me worry about that. We’ll be fine. I’m getting our allies sorted, and we’ll be in a much stronger position soon. With Bellini’s apparent death, we’ll have a chance to scoop up some malcontents into our ranks before Pavone can sweet talk them. This could be a good thing.”
There’s a pause where Santino and I stare at each other quietly. Then he nods. “Fine. But I’m going to find a way to contact Angel, at least. Get his story.”
I’m overcome by a vision of Angelo shooting Santino and sending me the corpse in pieces.
“Don’t,” I say quickly. “You can’t trust him.”
Santino gives me a weak smile. “Maybe not. But he’s not going to murder me, Victor. He’s not—I mean, okay, he’s that kind of guy, but he wouldn’t hurtme.”
I don’t know how he can have such faith in a man who’d defected. Maybe I’d put too much stock in Santino’s reluctance to meet Angelo’s advances, and there’s more there than I’d thought.
But I know that nothing I say will sway Santino at this point. Without me noticing, he’s found new people to trust.
People he might even like more than me.
Maybe it’s a good thing they’re gone.
7
LUCIA
Looking around, I realize I’ve never set foot in my parents’ bedroom before. We moved into this mansion when I was a teenager, and naturally my parents never welcomed me or my sister into their sanctuary. We were never close as a family.
It’s smaller than Victor’s bedroom, but, I realize with amusement, the decor is nicer. Victor really did pick his interior design straight out of the McMansion playbook.
“Where’s my mother staying now?” I ask Pavone, trying to keep distance between the two of us. He’s by the large balcony doors, throwing them open and letting in enough light that the white decor of the room is almost blinding.
For some reason, I imagined my parents as opting toward darker tones. Black and red, probably, like Victor.
Pavone motions for me to come closer. “Come on, babe, I can barely hear you from over there.”
Grudgingly, I approach him, and I manage not to flinch when he puts an arm around my shoulder.
