Page 59 of Wounded King

"Are you even listening to me?" Luciano slaps the marble counter of my downtown office.

"Sorry, no." I turn my full attention back to him.

"I was saying that I don't think it was the Venezuelans who ordered the hit on you."

"You have my undivided attention," I lean back in my chair, focusing on my second-in-command. This is one of the reasons I hired him, because he's fucking brilliant. He would have put Thomas Cromwell to shame. Or maybe he's his reincarnation if I believed in that kind of shit. Either way, his network of spies is admirable.

"I have reason to believe that it was Don Edoardo."

I whistle through my teeth. Had anybody else thrown this ludicrous accusation out, I would have laughed him out of the room, probably chased by a round of bullets, but Luciano doesn't toss accusations out he can't back up, especially one as loaded as this.

"Why?" I steeple my hands to listen intently, finally being able to put my thoughts on things other than my little nurse.

"Who gave the orders to have Jacomo killed?"

"Careful," I warn. This, as far as I know, has not been proven. My father insists it was the Don who ordered him to eliminate the head of the DeLuna family—claiming Jacomo had sealed his fate the moment he publicly declared avoto di sfiducia—a vote of no confidence. It's no secret that I don't trust my father, but honestly, there was no reason for him to kill Jacomo. As far as I know, the two of them haven't had any issues other than the normal bickering between capos.

Edoardo has enough pull to get my father out of this farce of a trial, but as of yet, he hasn't intervened. But at the same time, he's also ordered the heir of the DeLuna family, Toni, not to seek revenge on his father's killer. Instead, he forced my dad to hand over our part of the Los Angeles territory to Toni as retribution. By all rights, Toni and I should have a vendetta going at this point, especially considering he drew a gun on me during one of our capo meetings. But we have too much in common to allow it to divide us. I made it clear to him, though, that he would never do that again unless he was willing to risk a bullet throughhishead.

"Alright, so Jacomo asks for avoto di sfiducia, which would have pissed Edoardo off," I say, entertaining Luciano's theory. It's not without merit. Ever since Edoardo took over, all our profits have been down; there's a better-than-average chance that Edoardo could have lost that vote. "So he ordered a hit on Jacomo, using my father," I summarize. I can get on board with that theory. Still, I fail to see how that connects to the assassination attempt on me.

Luciano must see the question on my face. "Do you know the name of Edoardo's favorite nephew?"

I shake my head, but a foreboding feeling spreads out inside my stomach.

"Casimo Matteo."

I narrow my eyes, and my fist hits the top of my desk. "Why didn't that come up during the vetting process?"

"Because they kept it secret. He is the nephew of Edoardo's mistress, Helen Gordon. I sent a detail to Casimo's funeral, and when I saw the pictures of the guests in attendance, I recognized Helen."

Edoardo hasn't made a secret of his affair. As a matter of fact, he and his mistress are sharing a house while his wife, Isabella, is fuming but unable to do anything about it. Rumor has it he's head over heels in love with Helen Gordon.

"So Edoardo tried to rid himself of two capos—the head of the DeLuna family and the head of the Orsi family. He hires one to kill the other and then lets him take the fall. Next, he wants to rid himself of me, to install his incompetent nephew Casimo in my place."

"That's what it looks like to me," Luciano nods.

I drum my fingers on the desk. Edoardo picked me as his next target, not Toni, because he still needs Toni to get rid of my father.

"Do you have any proof?"

"Besides what your father said and the family ties?" Luciano shakes his head. "Not yet, but I'm working on it."

"That still doesn't explain how Fabio comes into play." As much as Luciano's theory has validity, I feel like we're missing something—something about Margarita. I don't think Benny was lying. He was too scared to lie, and I don't think there is another man who fits Fabio's description, at least not in the city. And I don't think Edoardo got to Fabio. This whole thing is starting to make my head hurt. But I also feel like we're getting closer…

Luciano's phone vibrates. He reads the text with a growing frown and then looks up at me, "Roberto is dead."

That gets my full attention. "What? How? When? What happened? What about Sophia? Was she hurt?"

"She's missing," Luciano fills me in darkly.

I go ice cold. Missing? What the fuck? Roberto'sdead?

My jaw tightens, teeth grinding like concrete under pressure.

Missing?

What the fuck?