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“Afight broke out near Elm Street last night. Some of our capos got into a brawl with some cops. Shots were fired,” Carlo is saying.
I’m only half-listening to his report. But I do have enough sense to throw out a question.
“Anyone dead?” I ask, pretending my mind is here and not last night with a certain redhead who has a penchant for fucking with me.
Carlo says something in reply but I don’t hear him. My eyes move toward the paintings lining the walls of our house. Fuck, why did Daniella have to tell me about her love of art? Now every time I see a painting, I’ll be reminded of her.
My heart feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it after last night. There are so many conflicting feelings running through me. But most of all, I recognize that we both hurt each other, and if we did that to each other so easily, then what hope do we really have?
“Fratello,” Carlo says sharply, drawing my attention. “You’re not listening to me.”
I blink, looking up at him, and immediately feel bad. He woke up at the crack of dawn and came to the house this morning, ambushing me before I even had a chance to have breakfast. We’re in the living room so he can tell me about our newest problem, but I can’t seem to focus.
“I’m listening,” I say slowly.
He gives me a look that says he doesn’t buy it, but for my sake, he starts all over again.
“Some capos got injured last night. Thankfully, none of them died and the doctors we’ve got on hand are already patching them up. But they shot cops, Christian. It’s a big issue.”
My jaw clenches. “Who started it?”
“From what I heard, the cops busted them for illegal possession.”
“They’re our guys. Weren’t the cops aware that they’re D’Angelos?”
“I think these particular cops were looking for trouble. I’ve heard some rumors that a detective’s sniffing around us. I think—” Carlo hesitates.
One look at the doorway of the living room and I know why. Daniella walks in with an innocent, unassuming expression on her face.
“Don’t mind me,” she says lightly.
I lean back on the couch, a smirk spreading on my lips. “Yes, don’t mind her, Carlo. We can talk in front of her. After all, she knew what she was getting herself into.”
“Actually, I didn’t know I would be relegated to a slave when I agreed to this.”
“Slaves don’t get to walk around like they own the place.”
She glares at me. I ignore it, looking at Carlo, who’s staring at us with a bemused expression on his face.
“You two had a fight?” he questions.
“Let it go, Carlo,” I mutter.
In true Carlo fashion, he doesn’t press the issue. He clears his throat, apparently about to continue his report, which would not be ideal in front of Daniella. Contrary to what I said, I wouldn’t be comfortable with her hearing all the dirty little details of the business.
I get to my feet, my hand moving to the collar of my shirt to smooth out any ruffles. Carlo follows suit. Daniella’s eyes follow our movements, her hands crossed at her chest as she stares us down.
“Where’s Topher? I’ve been worried since he left like that yesterday,” she says.
It’s clear she’s not directing the question to me but my older brother. I look at Carlo too, curious about the whereabouts of our black sheep of a brother. It also reminds me that I have to deal with the issue of Topher’s fuck-up as well. Everything’s about to implode in my face. Which is why whatever is going on with Daniella can’t be at the forefront of my mind right now.
“He’s alright,” Carlo replies gruffly. “Staying at one of the family condos.”
“Will he be safe?”
“Don’t worry,cognata.I’ll keep my brother safe,” he tells her with a smile. He walks on ahead, leaving me alone with Daniella.
“Clearly, you’re bored,” I drawl.
