Page 18 of Tortured Hearts (Marchesi Empire #2)

“If you scroll to the last page of the shell corporation financials, you’ll notice the overseas figureheads Marcello masqueraded as owners are no longer on the accounts. The day he walked out of prison, the dates were altered and corporate ownership transferred to?—”

“Giovanni Marchesi.” Carmine glances up from his screen, a red curtain sweeping up his neck.

Anton nods. “Marcello lured Gianni back to New Jersey knowing the Authority would shoot at first sight. By the time the ‘truth’ about Providence came out, his hands would be clean, and Gianni would be dead. But we didn’t come here expecting a full pardon on a few bank records.

” With one more push of a button, a familiar conversation fills the room.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s hear this ‘brilliant’ plan.”

“Simple. We call a truce.”

“You’re forgetting the Authority considers me Public Enemy Number One. I’d think the only ‘truce’ they’d entertain would involve a bullet.”

“Five Families. Five bosses. Five votes. As a member of the Authority, I have the power to make rules and bend them. It’s surprising how quickly people will alter their values when given the right motivation.”

“Just an observation… If I’m such a pariah, wouldn’t the whole ‘forgive and forget’ thing make you guilty by association?”

“I don’t have to forgive you to exploit you, Gianni. You’re simply a piece on my chessboard.”

“And you expect me to believe I’m anything other than a pawn?”

“I don’t care what you believe. My actions aren’t for you to question.”

“The other bosses might question them once they find out about your Providence side hustle.”

“Those idiots are incapable of finding their own dicks, much less something operating in front of their faces.”

For a moment, no one speaks. Then, Anton ignites a cannon of preemptive strikes, firing off answers to questions before they’re even asked. When the dust finally settles, I look damn near pious, and my father is nine ways of fucked.

“And you knew nothing?” Toscano asks. “For twenty-two years?”

The Marchesi underboss doesn’t miss a beat. “Marcello kept his side action to himself.” His gaze drifts to me. “And Gianni wasn’t a part of this until his father made him one.”

I suspect Carmine’s nerves are fraying when he swipes the bourbon and fills his glass. “Why didn’t you come to us when you found out he was framing his son?”

Anton scrubs a hand down his face. He’s reaching his breaking point.

One more stupid comment and that cool, calm demeanor might turn inside out.

“Gianni didn’t have the time for protocol.

Besides, with all due respect, I just presented a shit ton of proof, and you’re still arguing with me.

Imagine what would’ve happened if I’d come without the audio. ”

“You can’t expect us to believe he did this all by himself,” the Boston boss insists. “Even the best don needs boots on the ground to make an operation like that run.”

“Why not?” Carmine snaps. “The stronzo thought he was a fucking god.”

Anton nods. “You’re both right. Marcello kept his men in the dark, so I suspect with all the revived Rogue activity in Providence, one of the remaining offshore accounts belongs to a disgruntled, leftover member.”

Toscano’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you have a name?”

“Not yet, but we won’t stop until we do.”

“What about this police chief and marshal?”

Anton and I exchange glances. I’d hoped to keep this part under wraps, but I’d also like to walk out of here with my nuts still attached to my dick. “George Reese and Henry Saddler,” he says reluctantly, quickly adding, “But we have both under control.”

Sure we do … and I’m a well-adjusted, productive member of society.

The fuck?

When no one fires a gun, I push the pedal to the floor. “Disrespect like this can’t go unanswered. Who better to take care of Marcello than someone with a justifiable vendetta?”

Carmine shifts his narrowed gaze to me. “How do we know this all isn’t just a ploy?”

I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, daring a truth they all see but refuse to accept. “You don’t. But are you willing to fuck around and find out?”

All four men exchange looks. They don’t have to say a word.

I can read their faces like a manual. I’ve backed them into a corner, the most dangerous place to be for men like us.

Despite my father’s treachery, time is their most dangerous enemy.

His actions mock the foundation of the Authority’s power.

If word spreads, the Five Families would implode.

Marcello has to be taken out now . They know it, and I know it.

Toscano exhales a long, slow breath. “If we sanctioned this, it’d be without fire. We can’t have your signature on a boss’s murder and do nothing about it.”

I snort. “Because we’re so civilized that we have manners now?”

“No,” Toscano answers, his voice tight. “Because we don’t give the feds unnecessary ammunition. It’s how we avoid situations like the one you and your father put us in.”

He stares craters through me until I mutter out a reluctant, “Fine.”

“Where’s Marcello now?”

“Out buying balloons for my gravestone? How the hell should I know?”

“He’s at the club conducting business as usual,” Anton says, subtly kicking my chair as he steps forward.

“I’ve made sure he has no reason to question my loyalty.

That’s why Gianni and I have the freedom we do.

As far as he’s concerned, no one knows he has his hands in Providence or that he’s setting his son up to take the fall. ”

I stand, ignoring Anton’s heated side-eye. “I’m on somewhat of a time constraint…”

Toscano’s smile is anticipatory, like a snake circling its prey before swallowing it whole.

“Your impulsiveness is your greatest weakness, Gianni. How do you think Marcello’s most trusted captains will react if their boss’s traitorous son takes him out behind a curtain?

They won’t simply shrug and fall in line.

You need to make a statement with the Authority there to back you up at tomorrow night’s meeting. ”

I glance at Anton. “I didn’t have ‘public execution’ on my bingo card, did you?”

Toscano slams his glass against the table. “Play along, and keep your mouth shut. This ends tomorrow tonight.”

Play along… It’s the same thing I told Becca. Irony is a dirty bitch.

I turn toward the door with an obligatory nod, only making it four steps when Toscano calls out, “You realize this means you’ll become boss of the Marchesi family.”

No, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“No offense, Benny, but have you thought that through?” I ask, ignoring the low hiss of my name behind me. “I mean, I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I’m a federal celebrity.”

“You’re right… You sold your soul and gave the FBI access to our world. Right now, you’re their golden boy, but once word spreads you’re wearing the Deadpan Don’s crown, that shine’s going to tarnish.” A slow smile spreads across his face. “How unfortunate.”

Of course. They don’t want me in power. They want me useless to the FBI.

“Great,” I mutter, turning back around. “I’ll start thinking of a tabloid nickname.”

“One more thing…”

I tip my head back. “This is where you ask me to sacrifice a live chicken, isn’t it?”

A low chuckle rumbles behind me. “I just want to know what Marcello is holding over your head that’s so valuable you’d refrain from shooting him on sight.”

Fuck.

I can’t tell them about Becca. It’s too dangerous. She’s an outsider my father has made a liability. Men like Toscano don’t deal with threats; they eliminate them. However, lying will only widen the target on my back.

Patchwork truth, it is.

“He threatened the people I love. Isn’t that enough?” I don’t like keeping my back turned, but considering I’ve been tapped to lead an underworld revolution, I’d rather not look like I’m about to have a stroke. So I stare at the door as Toscano offers a final warning.

“Don’t disappoint us, Gianni. You’ve seen how we reward failure.”