Page 66 of Vows Made in Silence

Gaetano Fiori.

He was loyal. Trained by my brother. But his name was on the gallery surveillance rotation two weeks ago—and again the night Giuliana was followed.

“Where is he now?”

“Disappeared. Two nights ago. Said he was checking in on a lead.”

I slam my fist into the table, papers scattering like ash. “Find him. I want his phone, his family, his fucking shoelaces tracked.”

Turk nods, jaw tight.

“I think someone taught him how to disappear. And I think that someone is still inside my house.”

Because now it’s more than betrayal. It’s blood.

Sal and Leo start working on tracing Gaetano’s whereabouts. Turk radio’s the team to put the word on the street that Gaetano is a wanted man.

Two hours later Turk gets a lead. “One of our soldiers found Gaetano holed up in a burned-out apartment in North Las Vegas, the kind of place people forget exists. No lights. No neighbors.”

He pauses.

“Just enough rot to swallow a man whole.”

Tonight, it's where Gaetano Fiori will answer for his sins.

“Turk let our men know we’re going to get answers. We leave in five.”

I have just enough time to armor up, and tell Guiliana I am heading out with a warning to stay put.

Turk kicks in the door. Splinters fly. I move first, gun drawn, heart hammering.

Gaetano doesn’t run.

“You took your time,” he says, voice dry.

I step in slowly. “Didn’t want to rush your funeral.”

His eyes flick to my gun, then to Turk’s. “You want answers?" I say, voice low and shaky. "I ask myself how did I get this jammed up —but I had no choice.” “I’ll tell you everything, if you leave my family alone and let me take the fall.”

I raise the barrel to his forehead. “It doesn’t work that way for rats.”

His lips twitch. “It wasn’t supposed to go this far. I was just feeding information. Rotations. Patterns. I never meant for Daniel to be taken.”

“You fucking lied to my face,” I growl. “You watched Giuliana get hunted and that she had the box didn’t you?”

He doesn’t answer.

I slam him against the wall. “Who are you working for?”

“Not who,” he chokes out. “What.”

That makes me pause.

Gaetano coughs, blood now at the edge of his mouth. “It’s a network. One your father built. And your brother tried to shut down without the New York family's knowledge.”

I freeze.

He smiles. “And you? You’re just the last piece in a game that was set before you were even made boss.”