AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Corvi’s got the luck of the devil himself. People die, and he ends up climbing their corpses to reach the top.”
It takes a second, but the implication finally hits me.
“Are you saying…” I trail off, and I can’t keep the sneer from my face. “You think Victor murdered my brother?”
“Oh, I’m not saying anything like that,” Pavone says, that patronizing tone still in his voice. “But you must admit he benefited most from your brother’s death, especially if he already had a nice legacy to claim when he was gone.”
“No,” I say, out of habit. Because Victor couldn’t have done that. As pissed off as I am at Victor, there’s no way—there’s no fucking way—
I can’t have been following my brother’s murderer for the past seven years.
My eyes catch on the stained carpet again. Was Bellini not the last one? Should I have been aiming my sights in the completely opposite direction?
I meet Pavone’s eyes, and there’s no way to tell for me if he’s lying or not. But he’s smirking, clearly amused at my turmoil, and that makes me want to beat him black and bloody.
“Bellini,” I say carefully, “He gained a lot too. He stole a large chunk of territory in the aftermath.”
“You defending Corvi now?” Pavone asks me, raising his eyebrows. “Thought you were done with him?”
“I’m…” I swallow hard and harden my expression. I can’t afford to act like a fucking lost puppy in front of Pavone. “I am. You’re right. I have no clue what goes on in Corvi’s mind. He’d sell out his own family without a second thought.”
Pavone’s probably lying, but now that thought is lodged in my mind. I know why Pavone even brought it up: he wants me willing to kill Victor if the time comes. It’s one thing for me to murder a few cops and low-level men, but quite another to ask somebody to kill a man they’d called friend for years.
Of course, I don’t know if Victor and I were ever friends.
“Damien, I’m thinking, for the wedding—” Pavone says, as if we’d never done this little tangent about Victor’s motives, “I want it to be huge. Bigger than my wedding to Clarissa. I want every made man in town to know that I’m here now.”
That sounds like a security nightmare, but it isn’t my problem. I’m still trying to process the idea of Victor having had a hand in Nico’s death.
Rossi doesn’t complain either. “The venue we’ve booked can hold about five hundred.”
Pavone nods approvingly. “Good, good. Why don’t we go chat with Lucia, make sure she knows who’s invited?” He sets his glass of whiskey on the coffee table and gets up to leave, clapping my shoulder as he walks past.
I want to scowl or snap at him for fucking touching me, but I’ve put up with this much already. His casual condescension is an annoyance, nothing more. I’m not going to let it affect me any more than I let Victor’s mind games bother me.
“Do you need me for anything?” I ask, turning as he and Rossi reach the doorway.
Pavone shakes his head. “You can go. Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard about Corvi, eh?”
How am I supposed to think of anything else? “Nah,” I say anyway. “I’ve got a few things to take care of for you anyway.”
Pavone nods approvingly. “Keeping the job a priority. That’s good, Angelo. Come by in the morning for an update.”
I agree, and he and Rossi leave the room.
I’m left alone with the bloody stain on the floor, the reminder that my loyalty had been bought with the death of a man who might not have even called for Nico’s death to begin with. But it’s ridiculous. The easiest answer is that Bellini ordered Nico’s death using Ricci. Adding in some wild plan of Victor’s to make me think it was Bellini while pulling the strings…
It isn’t beyond him, but it isn’t likely.
It doesn’t stop me from scowling as I storm out of the house to find someone to pick a fight with.
9
LUCIA
The man sitting between me and Vanessa makes my skin crawl. I should be used to it by now, with how many mafia men I’ve slept with and dealt with, but it’s not every day I get to hear about how hot somebody thinks my mother is.
“MILFs, you know,” the guy says, gesturing crudely over his chest. “And Eva’s got such a nice rack, not saggy like the washed-up whores you see at the strip clubs.”
