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As one, three of the members suddenly throw their heads back, laughing loudly. The double-cleft wonder and that wizard kid’s godfather even huff a little chuckle through their sour looks.

“Ha. Haha. Ha?” I join in, shrugging and then actually give in, letting their laughter get me going. Nothing like a good manic chortle to lighten the mood.

“They said he was funny, but that look on his face!” The gray-bearded, jovial one shakes his head, leveling me with a stare and a nod. “You made an impression at the prison, my boy. I see good things for you.”

“And speaking of good things. You deserve a reward for your actions this night. That is why we call you in. And to make joke with you.”

A joke I apparently still have to figure out. I’ll never understand their idea of humor.

“I love rewards. But you really don’t have to. I’m Volk. I was just watching my brother’s back. Then my brother’s sister. Er, my sister? Ew. I mean…uh.Uverditel’nyy?” My salute could use some work.

“Remind me to put you with tutor for Russian. It’s terrible.”

“Wodka?” I sputter, holding out my hands.

“Or we could just give him three more months in Gulag…” the Boris guy growls.

This time I get the joke when they laugh at my wide-eyed expression. I mean, I pray it was a joke.

“Thanks for this, Shakal,” Pyotr smiles, his expression darkening some. “Not the news we want to hear, foreign gangs encroaching on our lands. But we get a bit too serious sometimes. Especially Boris.”

I nearly choke. His name is actually Boris.

“Unfortunately, the reward I have for you is not exactly good news either, but it is what I promised you. As much as I know about events with your brothers, that is.”

News about my family. But he said it wasn’t good…

Whatever you do, do not cry in front of ass-face. Swallowing hard, I nod, keeping my gaze steady and locked on Pyotr. He nods once, seeing my resolve.

“I am loath to inform you, Ciro, that all reports indicate that your twin brother is dead.”

I almost laugh.

Almost.

But as short a time as I have known Pyotr, I still can tell when he is being serious. And he is dead serious.

“How?” It’s the only question I can think of.

“From our informants, we gathered that after Dom took your elder brother’s place, he started making deals he had no intention of keeping. He double-crossed dozens of contacts, us included. This is why we captured you when you came to parlay. We suspected treachery. A tip let us know you were coming and where to find you.”

“I mean, Domisa piece of shit, so I’m not surprised. But we only worked for him to keep our extended family and fiscal interests safe. Because we had to.” I shouldn’t say that, share those secrets, but Pyotr likely already knows that much. Plus, I’m babbling like an idiot. At least I’m competent enough to know not to bring up Aless.

Isabella.

The kid. She’s going to be due soon if she hasn’t already had the baby.

Need to keep them safe. At all costs.

Fuck. I hope they’re still safe.

“How.” This time I mean it, I say it without thinking of the consequences of mouthing off to my superiors. I’m fucking shaking as the news sets in.

“When feds took Dom Vipera, he blabbed. Threw anyone he could under the bus for a deal. No one knows now where he is. But collateral was global. Agencies hit targets all over the world, like they knew exactly where every shady deal and exchange was going down. Assassinations foiled. Just about every contract and hire working for Dom at the time got tagged.”

Like me. Like Fiero.

My twin. Sent to I don’t fucking know where on his last mission. Except that we were sent by Adriano, not Dom. Adri told us to go make contacts, to get help and then disappear. He would not have set us up knowingly. It doesn’t add up. Unless Dom knew what Adriano was planning. Changed the rules, set us up.