Page 49 of Brutal Royals


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“Nothing.” But she’d said that way too fast to be coincidental. “I just know he parties a lot. And he is Dante’s brother. He might know where he went.”

“Then I’ll just call him up and ask,” I said, hoping that would be the end of it.

Gemma didn’t look satisfied, but she let it go. Sliding from the chair, she shot me one last look before leaving. I leaned against the counter, head in my hands. Finding Dante could be just as hard as finding the Snake. He’d been in the shadows for most of his life, with no one ever knowing that Sal Scarano had an older son for years. If he truly wanted to disappear, it wouldn’t be hard for him. But Gemma—and Mateo—were right because I couldn’t let him go out into the world without knowing what he was doing or where he was at.

I guess it was finally time to visit some old friends.

SEVENTEEN

SIENNA

The underground club was loud and dark but clean. The Salamander was an infamous speak-easy that changed locations every few weeks to keep its usual crowd on its toes. Yet, no matter where the Salamander was, it was always the same. The walls were always so black, they seemed to swallow the dim glow of hanging lights along the ceiling. Velvet black chairs and sofas were sprawled around the edges of the room, a midnight bar open to anyone who had enough cash. The shelves of liquor hosted only the best, the most expensive tastes anyone could have.

But the one thing the Salamander was always known for was its secret keepers. The club hosted a handful of New York’s elite members, and the owners held no loyalty to any mafia family. The sole reason they were allowed neutrality was based on the fact that they often aided us when we needed information.

I’d thought about coming here to find the Snake, but if they were anonymous, then even this place couldn’t help us. On the other hand, finding a wayward husband was a different matter entirely. If anyone knew where Dante would be, it would be the owners of The Salamander.

There were three in all—brothers who had taken their father’s measly bar and turned it into one of New York’s most elite clubs. It seemed as if The Salamander had been around for ages, but I’d been surprised when I learned the brothers were my age. Cain, Archer, and Declan had grown up right alongside Gemma and me for most of our lives. They were mutts as far as the Italians were concerned, which only gave them more freedom to do whatever the hell they wanted to. Like, open a speak-easy for New York’s most notorious criminals.

This week, The Salamander was hiding out in Harlem. I had a driver drop me off, not daring to drive myself in these heels. The tight black dress I wore hugged every curve, with a cut in the thigh that went high enough for pleasure, but still meant business. My mother’s diamond necklace fell against my collarbones, matching the pearl-drop earrings that brushed the top of my bare shoulders. I looked hot enough to kill and, hopefully, tantalizing enough to get the Arco brothers to dish where my husband might be.

The security guard at the front door waved me in, barely glancing at me before turning away to the long line of civilians waiting just outside. The Salamander might cater to New York’s richest underground dealers, but that didn’t mean it would spurn the money of those just dying to get in. Besides, a lot of people came here to deal and buy various services The Salamander’s usual crowd had to offer. Whether that was to find a job, hire a hitman, or embezzle money—The Salamander could set it all up.

Gemma and I had been inside a few times, but only to party. No one turned us away, and the Arco brothers seemed to have a thing for pretty girls with powerful fathers, which worked in our favor. I was counting on that tonight, in fact.

The music had been muted out on the sidewalk, but as soon as I stepped through the doors, it echoed loudly in the hall leading towards the main floor. I followed the corridor and stepped from the darkness and into the faint glow of the catwalk above the dance floor. Metal steps led down towards the bar, the velvet couches barely visible in the shadows along the walls. Just ahead of me was another catwalk, suspended from the ceiling, hanging over the heads of the dancers. I could see the Arco brothers already there, lounging across the sofas with a few women strewn about the VIP area.

I didn’t move to go towards the first floor just yet but instead lingered until one of the brothers finally looked across the room. Cain caught my eye, recognition flashing across his face just before a smirk followed. Lazily, his hand waved in the air, inviting me to come.

The sound of my heels was drowned out by the blaring speakers in every corner as I made my way down the metal steps and threaded through the crowd of sweating bodies. I passed the bar, taking the stairs that would lead me towards the other side. Cain’s dark eyes followed me as I ascended, tracking my movements with cold precision.

“Sienna. Long time no see,” Cain drawled. Archer and Declan glanced up at my name.

“Where’s your little friend?” Archer asked, glancing behind me as if Gemma would magically appear.

I moved to sit on the other end of the sofa, forcing two women to move. They glared at me until Cain waved them away. “It’s just me tonight.”

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Cain asked. He was the eldest, just two years older than me. Archer was the second eldest at my age, with Declan being a year younger than us, though all three could have passed for triplets.

They’d gotten their rich, raven hair from their mother, the ends curling beneath their ears but never long enough to be considered shaggy. Their eyes were so brown that they looked black unless in the sunlight. Cain was the largest out of all of them, with a barrel chest that led into a thin waist. Archer and Declan were still well-built, but shorter and thinner. The only way I could tell the youngest brothers apart was the dimple in Archer’s left cheek and the beauty mark just beneath Declan’s right eye.

I gave the women around them a scathing look. “I’m actually here on business.”

Cain understood immediately. He shot the women a sharp look. A few pouted, clearly put out at having been dismissed so easily, and even Declan looked annoyed. But I couldn’t care about that. I didn’t want anyone to overhear us.

When the girls were gone, I leaned forward, trying to keep my voice loud enough over the music, but not so loud that someone might hear me. “I’m looking for my husband.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Archer gave a sharp laugh. “We’d heard you got married. Congratulations, by the way. So sad we weren’t invited to the wedding.”

“Don’t blame me,” I said, laughing. “Blame my mother.”

“How is she doing, by the way?” Cain asked. “We also heard about your father.”

A server brought over a drink filled to the brim with vodka. I took a long sip before swallowing thickly. “She’s doing as well as expected.”

“Tell her we send our condolences,” Cain replied, shooting me a sympathetic look.

I bristled. We didn’t need their pity. “Have you seen Dante here?”

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