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But it’s not just any mafioso he’s marrying her off to. It’s tohim: to?—
“Dante goddamn Sartorre?! Have you gone fucking senile?!”
Alistair’s outburst garners a slight raise of an eyebrow, but not the same stern look that I got for swearing. Jackass.
“He’s an ideal?—”
“He’s a fucking sociopath and a monster,” Alistair snarls, shoving a hand through his dirty-blond hair as he paces the floor. “And after what that piece of shit did to Layla, if you had a single fucking ounce of honor or family loyalty, you’d have?—”
“What, killed him?” Charles drones in a bored tone.
The room goes quiet, all three of us glaring at our grandfather: two sets of greenish-hazel eyes from Gabriel and I, and one set of icy cold blues from Alistair.
“Tell me, Alistair,” Charles says with a sneering smile on his face. “If you’ve already passed judgment and sentence here, why haven’tyoutaken care of Dante yourself?”
“Because I’m a goddamnattorney, Charles,” Alistair hisses. “Not…”
“Not what?” Our grandfather’s lips curl deeper and his tone grows colder, his eyes narrowing.
“Not…you,” Gabriel mutters.
Our grandfather isn’ttechnicallymafia; the kind who rigs poker games, or runs drugs and arms, or fights street wars for territory. He’s the more dangerous kind of mafioso. He’s the kind of criminal people elect, not realizing who they’re voting for. The kind who’s learned not to fight the system or even hide from it, but to embrace it andbecome“the system.”
Charles built his kingdom out of favors, leverage, greased palms, and probably some blackmail here and there. He’s friends with politicians, union leaders, and yes, the mafia as well. And it’s that last one he’s about to cement his relationship to, when he marries young Maeve off.
To the devil himself.
Dante Sartorrealsoisn’t technically a “made” man in the mafia. But he might as well be, even more so than Charles. Raised by theverypowerful Barone mafia family, Dante—like Charles—built himself a nice little empire in the gray area between the dark and the light. Except while my grandfather deals in favors, Dante deals inhedonism.
Pleasure. Darkness.Depravity.
Dante owns and runs Club Venom—an exclusive, secret, members-only kink club that caters to the city’s most powerful, twisted, and dangerous. Honestly, it’s a place someone like me shouldn’t evenknowabout.
Except I do.
But that’s beside the point. Owning a sex club for mafiosos to get freaky at isnotthe reason my brothers and I hate Dante Sartorre.
It’s because of what he did to our sister fifteen years ago.
“Does she know yet?”
Charles raises a hard glance my way. “Beg pardon?”
“Maeve,” I hiss. “Does she know you’re selling her to a man twice her age for—” My brow furrows. “Sorry, what exactlyareyou getting out of this, anyway?”
Our grandfather lifts his glass and takes another drink. “Stability, Tempest. Weallget?—”
“Why don’t you just fuck off already with the savior complex bullshit, Charles,” Alistair growls. “Do not include us in this as if you give a fuck about anyone in this room but yourself. You’reselling your own flesh and fucking blood to the very monster who had a hand in Layla’s death?—”
“Oh, step outside your little glass tower and open your goddamn eyes!” Charles roars, lurching to his feet with surprising agility for a man his age. He levels a withering gaze at my brother, then Gabriel, then me.
“The Greeks are in bed with the Irish, who are nowalsoin bed with the Bratva. Meanwhile, the Italians are at each other’s throats like?—”
“Exactlywhen,” Gabriel mutters coldly, “is it going to click with you, Charles, thatnone of usis in the business of criminality! Alistair and I run the most prestigious law firm in the goddamn city, and Tempest?—”
“And exactly who pulled the strings toget youthat law firm, hmm?” our grandfather fires back. “And besides, don’t try to look me in the eye and tell me your hands are clean, either of you. I know damn well who you happily represent, legally.”
He’s not exactly wrong. While my brothers might not be involved in any criminal enterprises themselves, their client roster has definitely started to, shall we say,trenda certain way in the last few years: the Drakos Greek mafia family. The Kildare Irish mafia. Elements of the Russian Bratva, too.
