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“Lincoln wasn’t here to negotiate trade with the Death Riders,” he announced.
Matteo frowned, confused. “What? Then why is he here?”
“I suspected there was an embezzler.”
“You brought in an outsider?” Matteo asked.
Pietro walked up to him and studied his son. “I didn’t know if the culprit was one of my own accountants. I couldn’t trust anyone.”
“Including me?” When Pietro didn’t answer, Matteo let out a huff and looked at Lincoln. “And what did he discover?”
Father and son stared at one another and then suddenly, Pietro lifted his gun and shot Reynolds in the leg. The man screamed in pain and collapsed. The rest of the staff gasped and jumped back.
“Everyone except the guards is dismissed,” he barked. He walked over to the bleeding man. Reynolds glared and he lifted his chin and spat in Matteo’s direction. “Did you think you wouldn’t be discovered?”
“Both of you are nothing but murdering assholes,” Reynolds growled. “Everything I took you owe me.”
“I oweyou?” Pietro took a few steps closer. “Before I kill you, you will tell me why you chose to steal from me.”
Reynolds glared at him defiantly. “You murdered my best friend. I loved her, but you know nothing about love.”
“A fucking vendetta?” Pietro shook his head. “You’re a brainless half-wit, aren’t you?”
“Yet this brainless half-wit was able to infiltrate your organization and become your butler,” he goaded. “Your vetting process is shit.”
“I’m only going to ask this once. Where is my money?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Reynolds laughed.
Pietro shot the man’s other leg. He screamed again as tears poured down his face.
“Y-you’ll nev … never see it again.”
“You do realize that’s the only thing keeping you alive, right?”
“I don’t care,” Reynolds panted in pain. “The money is gone. You can go fuck yourself.”
Pietro aligned the barrel of his gun to Reynolds’s head.
“Wait,” Matteo said, frowning. “Who was your friend?”
“Macy Moore.”
At Matteo’s sharply indrawn breath, Lincoln glanced at him. All the blood had drained from Matteo’s face, leaving him pale and shaken.
“You’re wrong,” he said harshly. “It was the Iannuzzi family who killed her, to get to me.”
“That’s what you were—”
Those were his last words as Pietro pulled the trigger and buried a bullet right between his eyes.
“Why did he think we killed Macy?” Matteo demanded.
“The man was obviously disturbed and had the wrong intel,” Pietro addressed the guards. “Dispose of him.”
The two men nodded and went to obey the command. Pietro held out his hand to Lincoln, who grasped it firmly.
“Please tell Brim the money will be sent today. I appreciate what you’ve done and if you ever need a job, I’d be happy to hire you. Godspeed, and I’ll light two candles at Mass for your fallen brethren.”
