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CHAPTERTWO
Leo
“Why was he in my home?”
My voice is colder than ice as I stand over my desk. We’re in my annex, a detached building at the rear of my large garden, where I work out and work.
My little brother, Dario, my consigliere, sits in the corner like a spring, ready to uncoil. He might be mylittlebrother, but he’s still over six feet, has broad shoulders, and has dark brown hair instead of my silver black. He’s also flashier than me, with a gold tooth and an expensive matching watch.
Dario grunts. “He asked you a question, Aldo.”
Aldo stares up at me, shaking his head slowly. “I… You said to bring him to you.”
I groan, sharing a look with Dario. He raises his eyebrow.Can you believe this guy?
“To my house?”
“You didn’t spe—”
“Dumbass.” Dario jumps to his feet, paces over, and slams his hand on the desk so hard the large globe leaps up from its marble setting. “Does he need to tell you to wipe, too? Does he need to explainthat? Obviously, you weren’t supposed to bring a goddamn Russian hitman to hishouse.”
Aldo is fiddling with his earpiece, constantly readjusting it, leaning back in his seat as if Dario is going to hit him, and he might.
“Walk me through it,” I say, gesturing at Dario as I sit.
He recedes to the edge of the room, ready for action.
“Uh, boss?” Aldo says.
“Walk me through what you did this morning. Start from when I told you to acquire this particular gentleman.”
Aldo swallows. “Well, uh, you gave me the order.”
“Where were we?”
“Edonismo,” he says, naming the club where I spent most of last night, not partying but dealing with the mess. That’s been my job for over a year now, handling the Russians.
“Then what did you do?”
“Me and a few others—”
“You were in charge,” Dario says. “Don’t blame anybody else.”
“I went to the spot where I heard he hangs out. Luckily, he was there, so we frightened him, stripped him, and beat him a little, but not badly. Then we brought him to the club. Only I got the word you’d gone home, so I brought him…”
He trails off as if realizing how insane this sounds when spoken out loud.
“Keep going,” I growl.
“Here.” He swallows again. “But he’s a slippery bastard. He got away and made a run for it.”
“He ended up in the garden, where my daughter was entertaining her best friend. They haven’t seen each other for almost two years. Emma has spoken about this day forweeks.”
I’m shaking. My love for my daughter began the day she was born—an instant connection like a piece of my soul existed outside me. I’ll never stop being stunned by my love and devotion to her. She’s the reason for my most evil lie, after all. One of them, at least.
“Now, guess what Rosa is doing?”
“Boss—”
