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“What’s the meaning of this?” Gian roared, his hands stiff at his sides, but he immediately shut his mouth when I cocked the gun.

“Are we heading into a trap?”

“This shit again.”

I pulled the trigger.

Click.

Gian ducked and screamed.

“Oops,” I said.

When he realized he was still alive, he yelled, “Are you crazy? Raffa will hear of this!”

“Wrong chamber,” I told him. I pushed the cylinder out and dropped the cartridge in my palm to show Gian it was loaded. His eyes widened in disbelief. I chambered the round and spun the cylinder again. I pointed the gun at him.

“I repeat. Are we walking into a trap?”

He hesitated one second too long. I pulled the trigger again, and he jumped.

Empty.

“Boss,” Arnie called my attention again. “Maybe we could do this another way.”

“Yes. Yes. Listen to Arnie. Goddammit. You’re insane!”

“I wouldn’t be who I am if I wasn’t.” I spun the cylinder again. There was a trick to Russian roulette, but it was still a game of deadly chance. Gian was too flustered to spot the rim of the round, but I could. I’d played this game too many times. Butthis turn of the cylinder, Gian was out of luck and I still wanted my answers.

I pressed the muzzle to his forehead. “So, what has you on edge?”

Gian was trying not to cry. He flattened his mouth to keep his lips together. Not so tough now, eh, motherfucker? My fingers tightened on the trigger.

“It’s Raffa,” he rushed out. “He found out you drew your gun to shoot him.”

“I wasn’t gonna shoot him,” I said, keeping my voice and hand steady, but a chill raced down my spine. “Who told him? Griselda?”

“Raffa and I walked in on Griselda and Tommy arguing about it.”

Fuck!

“Is that why Tommy’s not here?”

“I don’t know. He probably doesn’t know how to face you…”

I spun away from him and returned the revolver and bullets to Arnie. “Watch him.” All other thoughts deserted me except for the need to get to Bianca. Raffa was a vindictive son of a bitch and God only knew how he would retaliate. As I headed to the rear of my SUV, I called Sticks. His phone had a strange message about being out of range before going to voicemail. It was the same for all the guys at the bunkhouse.

Fuck!Fuck!

I lifted the back gate of the SUV and the lid of the trunk covering my arsenal. I armed up with two nine-millimeters and a shotgun, screwing suppressors on the pistols because I liked my silent kills.

“What are you doing?” Gian shouted. Arnie was still pointing a gun at him.

“What do you think?”

“You think I’m going to let you get away with putting a gun to my head?”

I deleted the space between us, my voice low and lethal. “If Bianca’s harmed and I find out I could have prevented it if you’d come clean sooner, I’m gonna make you wish you were in hell. Now…” I tossed him the keys. “You’re driving.” I turned to Arnie. “Sit beside him.” I gave instructions to the rest of the crew before I slid in behind Gian. “I don’t like shooting men in the back, but I’ll make you an exception. One wrong move and you’ll be shitting in a bag for the rest of your life. Are we clear?”