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“Because of Lorenzo, Luca’s in jail.” I leaned down, getting in Mickey’s face.
“I kn—”
I slapped him across the cheek, bringing my hand back and hitting the other side. “You and that fucker are the reason my husband was carried away on our wedding day. All because you wanted to kill a woman who had done nothing wrong beyond being born a Chronis.” I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed. “You stupid son of a bitch. I—”
“Sasha.” Marco pried my fingers from his neck, his blunt nails digging into my wrists as he handed me off to Frankie. Turning his focus back to his brother, he bent over, gripping the arms of the chair. “What else do you know?”
“Nothing. After the Marino twins, Lorenzo told me he was done, that he’d made a mistake.”
“Did you know about Lorenzo going after Sasha?”
“No, I swear. You have to believe me,” Mickey pleaded.
Marco slammed his hand on the desk. “Fuck! Mickey, I don’t know what to do. If Taz finds out you knew about Tootsie, he’d kill you himself. I can’t trust a word coming out of your fucking mouth.” Gut-wrenching pain filled his voice, every word hitting like a physical blow.
“You can!” Tears spilled down Mickey’s cheeks as he reached for Marco, but his hands were brushed away.
“No, I can’t. At best, you helped Lorenzo start a turf war. At worst, you helped Lorenzo try to take over the family. We’re in a two-front war, and you helped start it!” Marco walked to the bookshelf and gripped a high shelf, stretching his long frame out. Mickey silently cried, staring at his older brother. I got the sense he was waiting for Marco to make it all better, but that wasn’t possible.
My murderous rage faded, replaced by hopelessness. Mickey was a dead man if the truth came out.
I tried to shrug Frankie off, but he tightened his hold. “You can let go. I’m not going to kill the bastard.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. He needs coffee and a good night’s sleep if we’re going to get any more information out of him. And Marco needs to take a walk before he snaps that shelf in half.”
Frankie let me go, taking a step back. I approached Marco, laying my hand on his shoulder. He tensed under my touch but didn’t brush me off. His eyes stayed locked on the first editions Dante Sr. was so proud of.
“Come on, big guy. Let’s get you some air.”
He hung his head and let out a ragged breath. “Okay.”
I followed him through the house to the kitchen. He went out the back door, and I started the coffeepot. Things were getting worse and worse, and I wasn’t sure how we would dig ourselves out of all the shit.
