Page 16 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream (Dark Hearts #3)

A ndreas

It’s the sound of weeping that fills my ears when Cristiano and I walk back into the main function room. His men have moved the bodies but the survivors are still standing, sitting, wandering aimlessly, trying to wrap their heads around what just happened.

Serafina’s aunt is cradling a smaller, darker version of Trilby, so I assume she’s the youngest, Bambi, but my gaze is drawn instinctively to a pair of familiar dark eyes spearing me from across the room.

My earlier ‘chat’ with Benito was brief, contained multiple uses of the word ‘fuck,’ and culminated in an agreement to move forward as an alliance but only because of the inroads I’ve already made and the fact I could take Boston right now if I wanted to.

I have boots on the ground, waiting for my command.

I’m offering to take the Di Santo’s with me.

But the conversation was unfinished, and the fact remains, Benito thought I was dead. I didn’t step forward to tell him I wasn’t. The trust between us isn’t great. I owe him more of an explanation if this alliance is going to work.

He sees me approach and whispers something into his girlfriend’s ear. She flashes a hateful glare in my direction then stomps away to join her aunt.

Benito jerks his head toward the exit and I follow him out to the front of the hotel. When we step out onto gravel and the fresh night air wraps around us I draw in a deep lungful of it.

He rests his hands in his pockets and looks straight ahead. “Why Boston?” he asks, getting straight to point.

I have two words that I know will get his full attention, quickly. “Aldo Ajello.”

He twists around to face me, surprise etched in his brow. “Our father’s right hand?”

I rock back on my heels. “The very one.”

“He’s alive?”

“Oh, very much so.”

“What does he have to do with Boston?”

“He runs one of the gangs. They’re all tenacious bastards—think you’ve killed off one outfit, but more soldiers spring up like fucking weeds the next day—but his outfit is the most influential.

” I turn to face him. “I’m close Benito.

I have hundreds of pairs of eyes on him.

Basically a barrel pointed at his skull.

I want you to be with us when we take him down. ”

His voice dips. “Why?”

“Because he screwed with you too.”

Benito doesn’t respond and I find myself feeling immensely proud of the poker face he’s deftly woven.

The moment calls for elaboration. “I kept an eye on you all these years. The day I left, Leonardo had put a knife to my throat because two of his men looked to me for orders, not him. He was a loose cannon with small ambitions, whereas I’d grown into a level-handed strategist with an eye on more lucrative deals.

I didn’t want to just burst into a fucking warehouse, all guns blazing.

I wanted to win bigger deals, bigger sums of money, using my brain .

“Ajello was his fucking lapdog. Whatever Leonardo said, Ajello would treat as gospel. If Leonardo wanted to lock me up in the basement so I couldn’t join the next raid, Ajello would be the one to turn the key.

He left his mark on me too. Broke my arm, my finger, a rib.

They always were as bad as each other, and with Leonardo dead, the next best revenge is Aldo Ajello. ”

I narrow my eyes. “He’s going down, Benito. Six feet to be precise.”

There’s a long pause before Benito speaks. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why do you want Boston so badly?”

It’s a good question. “It’s my home. Sure, I followed Leonardo’s men to Boston when they got chased out of New York, but I like it there.

I see potential. It’s the perfect place to base my new venture.

The only downside is the south Boston gangs.

Between them they cover a lot of ground, one or two have the ear of the local Governor, so collectively they wield power they don’t deserve.

I want to shake it up, make it mine , and snuff out that man’s flame while I’m at it.

“And that’s why you need us?”

I emit a dark chuckle. “I don’t necessarily need you, but it will take me longer to eradicate the gangs alone, simply because I don’t have the numbers that you do. Plus, I want you with me. You’re family.”

“I’m a Di Santo now. Bernadi is a mere formality. That’s no longer me.”

I nod. “Good for you.”

“Why did you disappear?”

I sigh and look out again at the black night.

With my sight more accustomed to the darkness, I can make out the figures of Di Santo men surrounding the hotel.

So many lives were taken tonight, yet the men are still guarding this place like it houses the Crown Jewels.

The loyalty within this family is staggering.

“Every night I slept with two guns and a dagger beneath my pillow, because I didn’t trust that he wouldn’t come after me in the night.

Leonardo was filled with so much jealousy and hate, it was only a matter of time before I wound up in some river with a rock tied to my ankle.

I had to leave before he had the chance, so I could protect you. ”

He barks out a bitter laugh. “How could you protect me if you weren’t there? ”

I grind my jaw, slowly. “I was there. I had eyes on you the whole time. You just didn’t know it.”

“What about when our father left me behind on that bust and I was given over to a rival gang?”

I heave in another breath. “I was there.”

I feel his gaze narrow skeptically.

“The only time you dropped off my radar was when Gianni took you underground. I had no idea if you were dead or alive. Those were the hardest few months of my life.”

“And then?”

“When you emerged a made member of the family, I was happy for you. I figured you might have had a hand in killing Leonardo.”

He shakes his head. “Heard he was shot down in the Bronx.”

“Yeah, well, he had enough enemies.” My lips curl up as I glance sideways at him.

“But look at you now, little brother. You make his big time look like a drop in the ocean. You’re right at the heart of the biggest crime family on the east coast, expanding into new territories, and taking this business beyond the black market. I’m fucking proud of you.”

He angles his body toward me. “I appreciate the sentiment,” he says with a slight note of annoyance. “But don’t ever call me ‘little’ again.”

I bite my cheek and nod.

“And I don’t forgive you for letting me believe you were dead all these years. Not even close.”

“I understand,” I reply .

“But I do want in on Ajello’s neck. That asshole made my life miserable. He needs to die.”

I hold out my hand and we shake on it. He’s quicker to pull his away but I will feel my brother’s palm on mine for hours to come, because blood is thick, and finally, it’s only our skin that separates us.