Page 38

38

Andre

“I still can’t fucking believe it,” Tristan mutters as he stands in front of the bar in Creed’s office, sipping a new glass of whiskey.

After Creed and I… dealt with Lorenzo, we called our cousin over and filled him in.

By now, Lorenzo’s body is probably cooling in the morgue. His death listed as a suicide jump from a hundred stories up, thanks to Creed’s law enforcement connections. By some miracle, nobody on the street was injured when the bastard fell onto an empty parked car.

Tristan, Creed, and I have drunk so much the past hour it’s a wonder any of us can walk or speak in complete sentences.

It’s only a few minutes before a Council meeting, so Creed really should try to start sobering up.

“Which part can’t you believe?” I ask Tristan. “That Creed’s father was a fucking piece of shit, that our fathers didn’t do a damn thing to stop him, or that Lorenzo literally cleaned up that son of a bitch’s cum from my wife?”

“All three.” He takes a big swig from his glass. “But killing Lorenzo…”

“Give me one good goddamn reason why I shouldn’t have ended him?”

Our most brutal cousin shrugs. “Because it was too easy.”

“What?”

“You know how much I love to draw out the pain,” Tristan says. “I mean, if it were my girl, and he watched that shit happen to her without intervening…”

“He didn’t just watch; he fucking touched her!” I explode, gripping the glass so tightly, I’m surprised it doesn’t break. I want to throw it through the window or punch Lorenzo in his face before killing him all over again because I’m so furious.

“Right, if it were my girl he watched and did that to, then I’d have wanted him to experience something similar before a slow, excruciatingly painful death,” Tristan explains.

“You would’ve sent him to prison?” Creed asks.

Tristan nods. “He would have spent three and a half long years guarding his asshole without the family’s protection behind bars.”

Creed lifts an eyebrow as if in approval. “That would be a slow way to suffer. He might have gotten shanked and left to die slowly too.”

“I didn’t want him to live another second,” I tell them.

“Well, it’s done,” Creed says. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. Nothing short of killing my father would’ve probably stopped him that night. I know that doesn’t make it better…”

I sigh heavily. “No, it doesn’t, so let’s just drop it.”

“I can’t say that I’m angry Stella killed him. I had no idea my father was…No, I take that back,” Creed says. “I knew my father was a piece of shit, just not to what extent. That’s probably one more reason why my mother tried to send him to prison and risked her life to run from him with me and Carmine. He deserved to die.”

“Do you think Emilio knew what happened?” Tristan asks.

I shake my head. “I doubt it.”

“Does it matter?” Creed questions.

“Not to us, but it might matter to Stella.”

Oh shit. If Emilio found out and didn’t do anything…

“Too bad we didn’t think to ask Lorenzo before his jump.” When nobody speaks for several quiet moments, Creed turns his attention to Tristan. “Speaking of prison, how are things going with the DA?”

“I’ve been up her ass like a thong string, but I still don’t have anything we can use to convince her to drop the charges.”

“What about the evidence room? Do we have any guys in there who could make our guns disappear?” I suggest.

“Would it really matter if the guns went missing?” Tristan remarks. “The DA would blame us, charge us for tampering with evidence, use it against us as one more reason we should be locked up, and then show them all the video footage of us holding the damn things.”

“True,” Creed mutters, his jaw clenched tight as he rubs at it. “There has to be some way to handle this shit now that Weston’s dead. I’m getting tired of waiting. You’ve got until the end of January to take care of it. If you can’t, then we do it the messy way before trials start.”

“Understood.” He nods. “I’ll climb back up her ass first thing in the morning.” Then, he changes the subject while heading for the door. “Let me go see who’s arrived and if anyone is still missing.”

“You do that,” Creed says.

Once Tristan leaves his office, despite everything else going on in my fucked-up life, I can’t help but ask my cousin, “Did that sound like Tristan’s trying to fuck her or was that just my take?”

Creed chuckles. “You saw the photos he took of her, right? But there’s no way she’d willingly lay a finger on him, so it’s nothing more than wishful thinking on his part.”

“Maybe I should tag along with him more often to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Maybe so,” Creed agrees. “This shit is too important for him to be wasting time, thinking with his dick. In fact, it might be time to see how Bowen reacts to a friendly request from the assassins he inherited.”

“Without taking a vote first?”

“Fuck the vote.” He rubs his index finger over his bottom lip. “Although, maybe we should do business with his adopted sister, Serafina, instead. She may be more inclined to…”

Creed doesn’t finish his thought before Tristan reappears in the doorway with Saint. Oh shit. Did Stella tell him about Creed killing Izaiah? About me slashing his father’s wrists.

“He wanted a minute of your time,” Tristan says. “Everyone but Bowen is here and waiting in the conference room.”

“I want to kill him,” Saint says without preamble. I’m not sure if he means me, Creed, or Aiden Sanna. He looks like shit, dark circles under his eyes, long dark hair going in every direction as if he’s been tugging on the strands in frustration. His suit is wrinkled like he doesn’t have any fucks to give since his sister went missing.

I want to ask him about Stella, but I hold my tongue for now, until we find out who he wants dead.

“I know you do, Saint,” Creed replies as he swallows his glass of liquor. “But if you kill Aiden Sanna, then I’m absolutely certain Kai will kill Cami.”

“Fuck!” He scrubs his palms down his face as he throws his head back. Right, he was talking about Sanna. Stella didn’t tell him. Thank fuck.

Why didn’t she?

“You’re not confessing either,” Creed orders, referring to the threat in the note. “Right now, it’s a guess. A bullshit threat. They don’t have any legitimate evidence, or it would’ve been brought to me by now. So, you don’t give anyone a damn thing they don’t earn themselves, got it?”

“Yes,” he mutters.

“Drink?” I ask Saint, holding out the glass I just poured for myself.

Lowering his hands from his face, he comes and takes the glass from me, downing it in one swallow before asking me, “Why is my sister back home?”

Guess she didn’t explain anything to him.

“We had a fight,” I answer honestly.

“You’re not welcome at our house,” Saint tells me. “Sorry, but that’s Stella’s wish.”

As if he could keep me from her if I wanted to see my wife.

Still, I nod my agreement.

Stella’s not going to talk to me tonight, or tomorrow, or possibly ever again. I can’t push her, but I’m sure as shit not giving up on her — on us — despite her demand for a divorce or annulment. Convincing her to forgive me may be impossible, but I know there’s something real between us, something that can survive all the lies.

“Did you know my father fucked your sister?” Creed blurts out, obviously intoxicated. This Council meeting is going to be a clusterfuck.

The glass in Saint’s hand slips from his fingers, hitting the floor and breaking.

“Should we take that as a no?” Tristan asks, eyeing the glass shards.

“Did you just…” Saint looks between the three of us. “Why the fuck would you ask me that? Your father’s been dead for years!”

“Cecilio fucked Stella twelve years ago, right before he died,” I inform him.

Saint’s face pales as he blinks at me, then his jaw drops. “She killed Cecilio?”

Creed and I both stiffen. “Why do you say that?”

Shaking his head, Saint backs away from the glass shards on the floor and runs his fingers through his hair. “Years ago, I don’t even know when it was, but one day, I overheard my father yelling at Izaiah to get his shit together. He said something to him like, ‘Your little sister took out a capo dei capi, and you can’t even take out the fucking garbage!’”

I look at Creed whose eyes widen.

“Emilio knew what Stella did?” I say in surprise. “Did he know why she did it?”

“So, it’s true?” Saint asks me. “Stella killed Cecilio?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“You’re not fucking touching Stella!”

“Whoa. Nobody is going to hurt her for ending that asshole’s life,” Creed assures him. “The only other person who knows besides us is Zara and Lorenzo, who happened to take a walk off the roof earlier tonight.”

“Fuck. That’s what all those cop cars and shit were out front?” he asks.

We all nod.

“Lorenzo hurt Stella?” Saint asks me.

“Yes,” I answer through gritted teeth. “He…touched her. After the New Year’s party, twelve years ago when she was drunk.”

Her brother winces. “God, we were…she was only twenty or twenty-one then? I didn’t know. Not about that. And I didn’t realize what my father meant about Stella back then. Now Cami is missing, Izaiah is dead, my father killed himself, and our mother is barely hanging on. It feels like our entire fucking family is cursed.”

“We’re going to get your sister back. That’s what this goddamn late-night meeting is all about. But you need to keep your shit together in there,” I warn him.

Saint peels back his suit jacket, revealing his empty shoulder holster. “Unless I take him on with my bare fists, the son of a bitch will walk out alive. I understand why no weapons or phones are allowed in these damn meetings. The five of us wouldn’t last two minutes if we were armed.”

“Exactly. And don’t even think about confessing to a goddamn thing,” Creed says in a soft whisper. “Now, let’s go see if everyone else has arrived. It’s time to stop drinking and start figuring this shit out. Andre, you’re with me. Camilla is your sister by marriage, which means you should be a part of the discussions too.”

I nod, glad he’s not going to shut me out of something so important.

* * *

“Before anyone says a fucking word,” Creed starts when we enter the conference room. He stands in front of Saint, and I follow behind to keep my brother-in-law in check and close the door. “If any of you raise a hand at someone else, I’ll throw your ass out, and your votes will be forfeited for the next goddamn year. Understood?”

Gideon Marino, our youngest boss before Bowen succeeded his father, nods first, since he doesn’t have a dog in this fight. Bowen follows, but with a smirk, as if he’s hoping a fight breaks out. Aiden Sanna gives a curt dip of his chin, then Creed turns around to face Saint. “Understood?”

“Yes,” Saint agrees. Creed steps aside, taking the seat at the head of the table while Saint chooses an empty seat on the opposite side of Sanna.

I take up a position along the wall behind Creed, just as Bowen’s sister, Serafina; Gideon’s brother, Zaven; and Aiden’s younger son, Raiden, does. It occurs to me Saint is the only one of the bosses without backup. I don’t see him bringing Stella into Council shit, so he needs to choose someone from his crew to have his back.

Nobody bitches about Serafina being female either, not with the two oldest bosses dead. Guess the younger ones don’t have a problem with it.

“Aiden,” Creed begins. “What the fuck were you thinking grabbing another boss’s family member at a goddamn funeral? Churches and cemeteries are neutral ground, just like this fucking conference room.”

“What happened…I had no part of it,” Aiden states softly with a shake of his head.

“Bullshit!” Saint roars.

“It was my idiot brother,” Raiden says as he takes a step away from the wall, coming to his father’s defense. Aiden raises his palm to tell his son to back up and shut the hell up.

“Do you really think I’d be plotting anything on the second worst day of my fucking life?” Aiden grits out and slowly looks at Creed as if holding up or turning his head is exhausting work after the horrible week he’s had. And I’m guessing the worst day of his life was the day he found out his wife and daughter had been killed. “I did not know what Kai was going to do, or I would’ve stopped him.”

“Why does Kai think Saint bears any responsibility for Vivianna and Amara’s deaths?” Creed asks.

“Kai believes it was the Rovinas’ revenge for Izaiah that caused the accident,” Aiden explains.

“It wasn’t,” Creed tells him, and it takes a great deal of effort to school my features rather than gawk at his blatant lie. “Saint and I have an alliance. He wouldn’t attack another boss without evidence of wrongdoing or without my permission, and he certainly wouldn’t go after innocent family members.”

“Now it’s our turn to call bullshit!” Raiden roars.

Aiden wrenches around in his chair to face his son. “If you can’t keep your mouth shut, then you’ll leave. Don’t interrupt again, or I’ll save Creed the trouble of throwing you out by doing it my damned self!”

“Is my sister still alive or not?” Saint snaps across the table.

Aiden faces forward again, but he doesn’t meet Saint’s gaze, which I know is a bad sign. “I don’t know. I can’t reach Kai.”

“Fuck!” Saint shouts as his fists slam down on the table.

“My sentiments as well,” Aiden mutters before he lifts his eyes to Creed. “I want an agreement that if Camilla is returned unharmed, then my son will not be punished for his mistake.”

Saint opens his mouth, no doubt to refuse, but smartly closes it and looks to Creed.

“Considering your family’s current circumstances and knowing Kai acted out of grief at unexpectedly losing his mother and sister,” Creed begins, mostly stating that information for Saint’s benefit. “It would be the best solution for everyone involved if Kai was given…immunity for his behavior, assuming Camilla is returned unharmed. However, if she is hurt…Kai will receive the same exact treatment he inflicted on her by Saint’s hand or by his named party’s hand.” The only way Saint would bow out of exacting revenge on the kid is if Cami was alive and wanted to do it herself.

Aiden swallows, knowing full well if Kai kills Cami, if he’s already taken her life, then his own is forfeited. “I can…agree to those terms. I would never condone harming the girl who is just as innocent as my…Vivianna and…Amara.”

“Saint?” Creed asks.

“My sick mother has been asking for Cami. I need to see proof she’s still alive before I agree to anything. She needs to speak to our mother and assure her she’s fine.”

Creed frowns but doesn’t overrule his reasonable demands. “Aiden?”

“I’ll insist on proof and a call to the Rovina residence as soon as I speak to my son,” he promises. “But as I’ve said, I don’t know where Kai is or how to reach him. We’ve tried tracking his phone. He left his and Camilla’s at the cemetery.”

Well, fuck. I actually believe the man doesn’t know where his son is or what he was planning before he kidnapped Cami.

“Then, we’ll put this discussion on hold until Saint hears from Cami,” Creed says with a heavy sigh. “Is there any other business before we adjourn?”

Nobody speaks for the brief silence, however, Zaven, Gideon’s brother clears his throat loudly causing Gideon to wince. “Our…request can wait until a more appropriate time, brother,” he says with a glare over his shoulder at his sibling.

“We’re all here, so you may as well tell us now,” Creed suggests.

“Fine. We have a request on behalf of our sister, Gia,” he says to Aiden, who visibly flinches, either at her name or in surprise at the change of topic. “Due to recent circumstances, we’d like to terminate Gia’s marriage agreement with Kai and propose a new one with Raiden.”

“What?” Raiden exclaims. “No fucking way! I don’t want Kai’s sloppy seconds.”

Gideon and Zaven both narrow their eyes, ready to throttle the boy.

“You’ll do as I say!” Aiden warns. “Now, get out. Go!” he adds when his son doesn’t move from his place at the wall.

Finally, with a huff, Raiden storms to the door, slips out, and slams it shut like an insolent child.

“Since Kai and Gia have been…seeing each other, could we table this discussion until Kai returns home as well?” Aiden asks Gideon. “I know Kai cares for Gia, and I’m not sure how he’d react to her marrying his brother while he’s…away.”

In other words, if Kai is killed, things will not be as complicated for the two families if Gia marries Raiden instead.

“We can wait, if that’s what you want,” Gideon replies. “But our shipping agreement with you remains on hold too. I’m not sticking my neck out or getting into business with you until all this dust settles.”

“Understood.” Aiden nods.

And with that, Creed adjourns the meeting with everyone still breathing, at least for the time being.