Page 40 of Vincenzo (The DiMaggio Crime Family #3)

VINCENZO

“ A rmando?” Amalia questions.

“Armando?” I repeat. “ The Armando? The real fucking Armando this time?”

Amalia pushes herself up to a stand and runs over to this new Armando, throwing herself into his arms.

“Now hold on a damn minute,” I say, pushing myself up from the ground and following her. “How do we know this is the real Armando this time?”

“Isn’t Diego’s body over there with the others?” she asks.

“I would say yes, but we don’t know. Several gunshots went off.

At this point, I don’t even know what happened.

What if he’s this Armando?” I narrow my gaze on the man.

He’s wearing a white button-up, black slacks, and a black jacket.

It’s completely different from what Diego was wearing, but I don’t trust my own fucking eyes to not play tricks on me since we’ve been played this entire time.

“No, this is the real Armando,” Amalia says. “Not only is he wearing different clothes, but look, he has more facial hair than when Diego was just posing as him.”

“Diego was posing as me? What the hell is going on?” Armando asks, his brows furrowing.

“Before we get into everything, I think we need to make sure all of the bodies are dead and accounted for,” I say. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Fuck … Yeah, okay,” Armando says, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll take the three over here.”

“I’ll check on the ones over there,” Amalia says.

I give them both a nod and head for where Pedro and Diego should be, but when I get to Pedro and don’t see Diego’s body, I know something’s wrong.

“Do either of you remember hitting Diego?” I call out to Amalia and Armando.

“No,” Armando says.

“I only took out my uncle and Pedro,” Amalia says.

“Fuck,” I hiss out. “He’s not over here. You guys see him over there?”

“What do you mean he’s not over there?” Amalia asks. She and Armando hurry over to me.

“His body isn’t here, which means he got away. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that now, would you?” I ask Armando, no subtlety in my accusatory tone.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he says, squaring his shoulders at me.

“Exactly how it sounds,” I snap back. “You came out of nowhere—at a pretty convenient time, might I add—and now your brother’s missing.”

“Well, first of all, you’re fucking welcome I came at this pretty convenient time . You would both be dead if I hadn’t shown up.”

I shrug. “Ehh, we don’t know that, but sure… go on.”

“And secondly, you clearly don’t fucking know the relationship I have with my family if you think I’d help my brother get away when they had guns pointed at Amalia.

When I walked into the backyard, all I saw was one of my dad’s men raising his gun toward her, so I acted on instinct and took him out.

I don’t fucking know what the hell you both got yourselves into here, but I’ve always been on her side.

No matter what. And that should fucking prove it. ”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Amalia says, stepping between the two of us and pushing her hands into each of our chests. I hadn’t realized the distance we were closing between us until now. “Both of you calm down.”

Amalia turns to face me. “Armando can be trusted. I was fooled into thinking Diego was him, and you have every right to be skeptical of someone you don’t know—especially after everything that’s happened—but trust me when I say Armando can be trusted.”

I clench my jaw, but reluctantly give her a small nod, then look at Armando. “But if it turns out you fucked Amalia over in any way, I’m coming for you.”

“You clearly don’t know how close me and my cousin are.”

“He does,” Amalia says, “but you have to understand…” She takes a step toward me, standing by my side, and turns to face her cousin. “We were just royally screwed over by your brother posing as you.”

He releases a long sigh. “What the fuck happened, Amalia?” he asks again.

“Uhh, quick question. Hate to interrupt this fucked-up rehash, but should we be concerned that Diego’s going to come back here and—I don’t know—shoot us? I mean, this is his house, right?”

“Diego’s a fucking bitch,” Armando says.

“Oh, that, I noticed.”

“He ran away which means he won’t be returning,” he says. “At least not tonight. We’re fine for right now.”

I’m still not confident with all of this.

Amalia takes out her phone, and after pulling something up, she hands it to Armando. “Is this your number?”

Armando takes her phone and looks down at it. “No, mine ends in 8324, not 8325. This is Diego’s number.”

“Of course it is,” she says, taking her phone back and shaking her head. “It seems I’ve been fooled for a hot fucking minute.” She runs her hands through her hair. “How could I be so stupid?”

I wrap my arm around her, hating that she’s beating herself up over this, and hoping I can provide some kind of comfort to her.

“How are you so calm right now?” I ask Armando, still not sure if I can trust him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you just walked in on your cousin killing your dad. Shouldn’t that make you feel… a certain way? Especially without context.”

“I know that out of my entire family, I trust and value Amalia the most.”

It’s a good answer, but I’m still not convinced.

“My dad’s been keeping me busy in Colombia with abuelito , but things have felt off.

He had me there for far too long, practically searching for things for me to do.

I didn’t feel good about it, and I knew something was off when I called Diego to check in on how things were going.

So I flew back and came directly here to see what the hell was going on. Seems my gut was right.”

“Convenient,” I say.

Ignoring me, Armando directs his attention to Amalia. “But it’s all starting to make sense now. I tried calling you a few times, but you never answered.”

“You called me?” she asks.

“Yeah, and I was texting you. You would respond to my texts, but you’d never answer my calls.”

Amalia lets out a sigh. “Diego said they forwarded our calls.”

Armando scoffs. “Yeah, probably to himself.” He shakes his head. “I’m so fucking stupid. I knew your responses felt off, but I didn’t pay much mind to it.”

“I feel just as dumb,” Amalia says, folding her arms across her chest and dropping her gaze to the ground.

“I still don’t fully understand. What happened , Amalia?” he asks, and a part of me feels bad for him knowing everything he’s about to learn.

She slowly slides her gaze up to Armando’s, a shimmer in her eyes as she fills him in on everything he’s missed.

Armando shakes his head once Amalia’s done. “So, he did it? He’s the one who killed your parents and my mom ? I fucking knew it.”

Amalia’s eyes furrow. “What do you mean, you knew?”

“I just fucking knew it. I knew he would do something cheap and dirty like that. Come on, Amalia, you know how my dad is. He’s always been consumed with power, raising me and Diego to be the same. This is exactly something he would do.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” Her tone is accusatory.

“I didn’t have proof,” he defends. “It was just this gut feeling that I had. You know how things have been with my brother and dad. They keep me at a distance, so I never knew for sure. It was just small things I’d pick up on.”

“But you should’ve told me. This entire time—ever since Manuel took me in after having my parents killed —I’ve done everything he’s asked me to do. Everything. Do you know how foolish I feel for trusting him?”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Amalia, but I didn’t know for sure.”

“But what about your mom? If you had this suspicion, why didn’t you pursue it more?”

“When my dad spun that story about the rival gang killing them, I bought it. It made sense why they would go after them, so I stopped thinking about it. I swept it under the rug, believing the lies he told me. Trust me, I’m just as upset as you— if not more —about how fucking naive I was.”

Amalia has her gaze on the ground. She’s stiff… tense, so I tighten the hold I have around her, reminding her I’m here. She lets out a long breath, softening just a bit.

“I know,” she says to Armando. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, it’s just… this has all been a lot, and I feel betrayed and foolish.”

Armando takes a step toward Amalia, but when he sees my arm is still wrapped around her waist, he looks at me. “Are you going to let me hug my cousin or…”

“I mean, do you have to?” I say, not wanting to release my hold on her. If I could have Amalia in my arms twenty-four seven, it still wouldn’t be enough.

That seems to lighten the mood a bit because she laughs softly and swats my stomach with the back of her hand. “You two need to start playing nice. You’re both the only important people I have left in life.”

I reluctantly let my arm fall from her waist, and she closes the small space between her and her cousin. They wrap their arms around each other, and Armando rests his chin on top of her head.

“I’m sorry, Amalia. I should’ve followed my instincts ten years ago. I never meant to let you down,” he says.

“You were young too, Armando. You’re not to blame for this.”

The emotional moment between the two is quickly drowned out by the sound of police sirens in the distance.

“Fuck,” I hiss out, whipping my gaze toward the direction of the sirens. “You don’t think…”

None of us had silencers on our guns, so I’m sure neighbors heard the gunshots, but I’m surprised it took this long for them to call it in. It makes me think…

Amalia and Armando pull away and stare at each other with widened eyes and say, “Diego” at the same time.

Exactly what I was thinking.

Fucking hell.