Page 95 of Tormented Diamonds

“Ensuring we’d take him down in the crossfire,” Toscano adds sharply.

“Now you’re catching on.”

“And no one else knows about the existence of this trafficking ring?”

My smile resurfaces. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Gianni…” Anton cautions again, but I’m too far into this to scale back now. The blade is right there. I’ve drawn a thin line of blood. But I want more.

“I came across some information a few days ago from, shall we say, a passive participant in all this,” I continue. “Someone who had eyes and ears attached to the Irish pipeline and a vested interest in keeping the silent upper hand.”

“Be careful about implicating without proof, Gianni,” thecapo dei capiwarns.

“I’m always careful, Benny, and thorough. Didn’t you ever wonder how an arranged marriage between two thirty-plus-year-old adults came about so abruptly? On paper, my father had no reason to agree to such ridiculousness. But behind closed doors…” I give an exaggerated shrug. “Well, let’s just say extortion in the name of silence really moves the needle, huh, Carmine?”

Toscano’s iron glare shifts tohis right where the Connecticut don sits in a near catatonic state, sweat dripping down his temples. He looks like a melting ice sculpture.

“That’s a big accusation.”

“It’s not an accusation. It’s a fact.” Rising from my chair, I approach their masters-of-the-universe circle jerk, pull the envelope from inside my jacket, and slam it on the table in front of Toscano. “I always wondered how my father knew about Victoria when I took so many precautions to keep her hidden. Then, a little birdie told me he was given the information, as well as an ultimatum. It seems the guarantee of silence buys a lot.”

Anticipation floods my veins as Toscano opens Cathalina’s envelope and looks inside.

Two seconds pass.

Then five.

Then ten.

At fifteen, he lifts his head, every cord in his neck ready to snap.

Carmine looks about ready to pass out.

“I bet it really rattled some chains when I showed up spilling all Marcello’s dirty secrets, huh?” I say, sliding a damning stare toward my target while dropping my palms on the table. “Probably enough to make someone lead the very Irishman he demanded I kill to my door.”

“Is this real?” Toscano’s voice is low, like the distant roll of thunder that echoes before lightning burns everything to the ground.

“As a heart attack.”

He turns a chilling side-eyed glare toward Carmine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such hatred in a man’s eyes. It’s cold and predatory, like flint-edged ice. “Thank you, Gianni. That’ll be all.”

I don’t want his fucking gratitude. I want a guarantee.

“Doesthat mean Becca no longer has to fear the world she married into?”

“You’ve kept your word, so I’ll keep mine,” he offers curtly.

“What about?—?”

“You’re dismissed.” His crisp, sharp tone leaves no room for rebuttal.

There’s more meaning layered between those two words than an entire dictionary could hold. I know what’s going to happen, but it’s not my problem. Becca once told me the intent driving a choice affects the impact of its consequence. I thought it was psychobabble bullshit at the time, but considering how things worked out, she may have been onto something.

We’re taught that good guys always win, and bad guys always lose…

But what happens when the bad guy falls in love with the good girl?

This. This is what happens. The world somehow rights itself, and you don’t question it.