Page 134 of The Enforcer

“If he’s dead, I’m going to prison.” Carina said it with certainty, making Brianna think it wasn’t an idle threat.

“If he’s dead, I’ll help you hide her body,” Nova assured her from the front seat as they all finally acknowledged the very real possibility that Tino wasn’t alive anymore. “And we’re not going to prison for it. I’ll eat a fucking bullet before I go to prison for a goddamn Brambino, and I’ll make you eat one too. They don’t get that from us.”

It was such a horrific thing to say.

That Nova would kill his sister rather than let her go to jail for the Brambinos, but all Carina said in response was, “You won’t have to make me do it. I’d help you pull the trigger. We’ve been fucked by those puttane for the last time.”

So the Brambinos had this big hang-up over Sicilians.

They considered them dirty, angry versions of Italians who thought with their dicks instead of their brains.

They thought the Sicilians were beneath them socially…far beneath them.

And it wasn’t just the Brambinos. There were other families who considered themselves more “northern,” though they’d all been in America forever.

Most of them weren’t even full Italian anymore.

Brianna never paid much attention to it. It was an old, stupid Cosa Nostra thing that went back probably a hundred years or more and really shouldn’t exist, but it did for some reason, because the Brambinos let it, and the others helped.

They took power in an archaic stereotype, because no one could deny the Moretti Borgata was one of the strongest families, so they made them out to be hotheaded, uncivil animals who had no place in their society instead.

Brianna never believed Sicilians were any different from other Italians until the night they skidded into the driveway in Carlo’s black Lexus, and Carina flew out of the car before it had fully stopped.

She didn’t wait for the men.

She didn’t stop to ask her Zio Carlo for help, even though he was the strongest enforcer in the Borgata. She didn’t wait for her brother who’d just offered to help her hide the body. The men ran after her, and by the time they caught up to Carina in the kitchen, she had grabbed a pan off one of the hooks hanging over the island.

“Carina—” Nova started cautiously.

“Back off!” Carina yelled as she pulled open a drawer and took out an extremely large butcher knife. “This is all me.” She pointed the knife at Nova, who backed up a step and held up his hands. “I want your gun, smart guy.”

“I’m not giving you my gun,” Nova said with a manic laugh. “There’s no way.”

Carlo looked at Nova. “I sorta wanna give her mine.”

“If we kill her, we won’t know where Tino is,” Brianna reminded them. “We need to find him.”

One way or the other, they needed to find him.

If he was dead, she still wanted to find him.

She didn’t want him to be another CliffsNote in mafia history. She wanted him to be buried. To have a headstone. To be remembered.

Tears rolled down her face, but no one noticed.

“Listen to your friend.” Nova was still looking at his sister. “Let us do this. Let’s find Tino. Then we’ll deal with the rest.”

Carina stared at him for one long moment; then she turned around and shouted, “MA!” so loud they all flinched when her voice echoed off the kitchen tiles.

Carina made a move to go look for her, but she didn’t have to go far. Mary Moretti showed up before Carina was out of the kitchen, looking remarkably poised and sober for midnight. She leaned against the curved archway in the kitchen and gave Carina a wide, pleased smile. “Looking for something?”

“Where is he?” Carina growled at her mother as she took a threatening step forward. “You better tell me where the fuck he is, or I swear to God—”

“I honestly don’t know where he is.” Mary shrugged, looking completely comfortable with Carina standing there, pan and knife in hand. “Dead somewhere, if we’re lucky. He knew the rules. He broke them. Troia don’t fuck off the clock. I always win, sweetheart.Always.”

“I take it back.” Nova’s voice was razor-sharp and icy. “This is all you, princess.”

Mary held up a plastic box in response. It looked like a garage-door opener, but Brianna knew it sounded an alarm to the guard station that they were under attack. There were always Moretti soldiers guarding the house. They took shifts. None of them slept there, but soldiers were there in case of emergency.