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Damien, the quietest of us, gazes down at the road with a snarl, standing tall, as Dom crouches before us.
Slowly, I stop before my brothers. Our mother may be the bitch in charge here, but she sends us when she wants something finished. Usually, it involves death.
We are her reapers, her secret weapons.
“Do we have an ID?” I question as I pause before the lifeless body sprawled in the middle of the road, face down amidst a pool of blood.
“We waited on you,” Dom says as he pushes the body over, showing eyes absent from their sockets due to a bullet wound that exploded through them. “Shot executioner style right here at the crossroads.”
“Who is he?” A strange nervousness ricochets through me. With Charlotte and Milo to look out for now, I’ll do anything to keep them safe.Anything.
Dom, wearing gloves, reaches into the pockets and pulls out the wallet, looking to me for confirmation to inspect its contents. I give him a slight nod, my teeth clenched.
“Damn,” Dom mutters, hanging his head and holding the wallet up for Damien to grab.
Damien opens the wallet and shakes his head, his eyes hard as he looks at me. “Salvatore Bonanno.”
“The old man himself,” Dante says as he moves closer to the body. “A present?”
“Looks that way,” Damien mutters before pocketing the wallet, which he’ll go through later and burn in the crematorium behind the house.
“Is there anything else in his pockets?” Darius questions.
Dom looks down at the body, a sneer on his face. “I hate dead bodies.”
“Ironic, since you’re a damn doctor,” Damien mutters.
“I like live bodies, not dead ones.” Dom goes through all his pockets, then dips his fingers into the one on his chest, pulling out a business card. Silence washes over us as he reads the card. “Genovese.”
“Fuck,” Dante exclaims, turning around and walking off.
Dom slowly rises, handing the card to me. There, in gold lettering set against a white card, is our grandfather’s name.
“You think this is an act of war?” Darius questions.
“There’s no way it isn’t,” Damien snarls and begins to pace. “From what I know of old man Genovese, he doesn’t just kill anyone for anyone.”
“Both,” I say. “It’s a gift and a promise.”
“Well, I don’t want it,” Damien grumbles and pulls out another cigarette, the flame casting eerie shadows on his face.
“He’s letting us know that he not only knows where we are, but he knows our territory limits,” I say, pocketing the card and stepping closer to the body. “Someone told him what went down.”
“You think he’s going to show up?” Damien pauses, turning around to face us.
“Let them come,” I respond, turning around and walking away. “If they think they can waltz into our territory and threaten us, they are in for a bloody surprise. We’ve dealt with worse before, and we’ll deal with this too. Mark my words, we won’t play their game. We’ll play ours, and they won’t like the outcome.”
