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I sip some of my scotch.
“Your father must have been a great man to build the empire he did. I’m sorry for your loss.”
My loss.
He will be sorry, but not for my dad’s death. For Aiden’s death when I bring him to his knees and delight in watching the life drain from his eyes.
I nod. “It is a risk we must all live with in our line of work.”
Giovanni nods. “Indeed, I heard you made the man responsible pay, though.” There’s a glint in his eye.
“Of course.”
Cathal sits up straighter. “Tell us how you dealt with him.”
I shake my head. “I’d rather not.”
His eyes narrow. “Worried we haven’t got the stomach for it?”
“I heard you butchered the guy and sent pieces of him to his family,” Cain says.
He’s right. I sent the Russian bastard to his family in pieces because that’s what is expected of me as the king of the underworld in London. My first move after taking over from my father had to be one of strength and brutality to ensure I cemented my position.
The Belyaev Bratva had become increasingly aggressive in recent years, and despite my insisting that we should deal with them swiftly, my father disagreed. It came back to bite him in the ass. Now, my firm’s retaliation has sent the Russians back to whatever hellhole they crawled out of. Henry, my second in command, is looking after things while I’m here in Washington and he’s the only person I trust on this planet, other than myself.
“Perhaps,” I say simply, swirling the content of my glass around.
Cathal looks unconvinced. “You look like too much of a pretty boy to get your hands dirty like that.”
I glare at my former best friend, wondering why he doesn’t recognize me. “It’s a bad idea to judge a book by its cover. Haven’t you heard the saying?”
He clears his throat. “Yes, but the way a man looks and holds himself can give good insight into his character.”
Cathal always was a little simple minded in that regard. He’s got tattoos over every inch of his body and thinks that makes him look hard, and yet I don’t find him intimidating in the slightest. For me, it looks like he’s trying too much to look like a bad guy.
I tilt my head. “Do you want to test that theory in a fight?” I ask. Even when we were kids, Cathal could never best me.
Gio intercepts the conversation before it takes a turn. “Enough talk of appearances and fights. Shall we go and join the ladies for dinner?”
A smirk spreads onto Cathal’s lips. “I’d love to.” I can see by the glint in his eyes that he’s hooked on the eldest Benedetto daughter.
Shame that she’ll be a victim of my revenge against them. I don’t care that she wasn’t actively involved in Aiden’s death. She’s guilty by association.
We stand and Giovanni leads the way down the corridor toward the dining room, where Bella, her three sisters, and her mom are all sitting.
Mrs. Benedetto stands and shoots her daughters a sharp look to do the same. They all rise, the two youngest reluctantly.
She smiles, and it’s the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “Welcome to our home, gentleman. It’s so lovely to have you here, isn’t it, girls?”
Bella glares at me and doesn’t say a word.
Nina, who stands beside her, nods in agreement with her mom, while the two younger girls whisper something to each other and then giggle.
I don’t miss the subtle predatory flash in James’ eye when they land on Luciana, the youngest of the Benedetto girls, at only fifteen. The man has always been a disgusting excuse of a human being since he was a child and I sense that’s carried on into adulthood. That at least explains why my father liked him so much, as he no doubt saw himself in James.
“Nina, you come and sit next to Cathal,” Giovanni instructs. And then his attention lands on me. “And Isiah, please take Nina’s seat. You are here to get to know each other, so no use having you seated apart.”
Bella looks horrified as I take the seat next to her.
