Paul Maranzano pales. “It wasn’t me. I swear it—,”
He flinches as I pat his shoulder. “I know.”
And my hand snaps out to grip the throat of the Crow standing beside him. Instinct has Nicolo raising his hands to mine, jagged nails digging into my skin as he tries to pry my grip away.
“Search him.”
Paul steps forward, gripping Nicolo’s arms as I stand back and let Danny through. I can see the disbelief as he begins to search one of my most senior men, one who has been with me since my first year here. Who has stood by my side, protected me, advised me, laughed with me.
And I see the devastation in Danny’s face as he holds up a packet with shaking fingers, even as the same pulses in my own chest.
Nicolo stares at me, his eyes dark. He says nothing. Nothing to argue the contents of the packet that Danny hands me carefully. Nothing to defend himself.
His silence tells me everything I need to know.
And we both know what needs to happen now.
But not before I understandwhy.
“Tell me.” The words are harsh, as harsh as the pain raking my insides. Anton Maranzano was one thing. But he wasn’t part of my inner circle, wasn’t trusted in the way that Nicolo Barbieri has been, close to my side all this time.
For a moment, I wonder if he’ll say anything at all.
He nods at me. “The Hawk sends his regards.”
It happens in an instant. Nicolo’s eyes roll back in his head, legs crumpling. Paul grunts as he tries to catch him, Dannyjumping back in shock as Nicolo’s legs and arms begin to jerk in a seizure. Foam gathers at the edges of his mouth as he convulses, his body falling still seconds later.
Danny goes to his knees, his hands hovering over Nicolo’s body. “Shit, Nic. What the fuck did you do?”
When he looks up at me, my face is empty. “Burn him. He will receive no Call.”
I glance around, taking in the ashen faces of those around me. Of my Crows. They look back at me, and all I see is anger at the man who lies dead at my feet.
But I can’t help wondering who might be next to try and plunge a knife into my back.
Chapter thirty-three Caterina
The Hawk.
I try to think as I make my way to my Corvette. It’s not a name I’m familiar with. The Corvos have many enemies, but none that have ever made such an obvious assassination attempt.
I pause as I unlock the car. The figure uncurls himself from where he leans against it. “Dante.”
“Any news?”
“He’s stable. I’m leaving now to head over.” Vincent has been keeping me informed, blowing up my phone with updates. But it’s not the same as being there, watching the rise and fall of his chest and trying to clear my head of how it felt when it didn’t move at all.
He nods. “I thought I might come. We could take my car.”
I observe him for a few seconds. “Worried about your muddie?”
He scowls. “That’s a fucking awful nickname. And no. He’s too fucking stubborn to die so easily. But… I’m worried about you.”
I click my tongue. “No need to waste your concern on me. I’m fine.”
“Cat.” He bars my way as I try to move around him. “Fucking hell. Is it so bad that I’m concerned about you? That I mightcare?”
I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “Don’t give me that political bullshit again. Maybe we’re bound by our families’ choices, butweare the ones who will lead. Not them. And when we are, it’s nobody else’s business but ours who we choose to love.”
