His head snapped up, his eyes flashing with an emotion I couldn’t name. “He was actively involved in Allegra’s crash.”
“Jesus.” I collapsed onto my chair. “He double-crossed us?”
“Dario got to him. Offered to pay off his debts if he betrayed us.”
My eyes lifted to the ceiling, and I blew out a heavy breath. “Of course he did. Getting everyone else to do his dirty work has always been his style.”
Enzo hummed. “If it didn’t require you and Matteo to be six feet under, I’d say let him try being Don. I’d give him a week or two at most before his own men turned against him.”
“He’s never had what it takes to command loyalty,” I agreed. “Too fucking selfish.”
“You can say that again.”
Reclining in my chair, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Am I crazy, or were both your and Matteo’s houses just gone when I drove past?”
“Not crazy,” he confirmed. “Matteo’s burned down a few months after you left. They bought a new place in the same neighborhood.”
“And what happened to yours?”
“Bulldozed it.”
I blinked at him. “Why would you do that?”
“It held more bad memories than good, so we leveled it to the ground and sold off the lot. Allie and I stick to the penthouse in the city.”
Enzo was my right hand. When I called, he came running. With him living downtown, his response time would go from a few minutes to upward of an hour if he got caught up in rush-hour traffic, which was less than ideal.
“Allie, huh?” I changed the subject.
My cousin softened, a grin growing on his face at the mention of his wife. “Yeah. She’s way too good for me, but for some reason I’m the lucky bastard she loves.”
That had me rearing back. Did he saylove? What the hell was going on around here?
“You could try just a little bit harder to not look so disgusted by the notion that someone might actually care about me,” Enzo remarked dryly.
“Sorry.” I shook my head to clear it. “From what I understand, there are several new Bellini women I’ve yet to meet. Your wife, Matteo’s new wife, a third niece. Once the dust settles, we’ll have to have a family dinner.”
“Yeah, sure.” Enzo stood, leaving his empty glass on the coffee table. “If that’s all for now . . .” He jerked his head toward the open office doorway, clearly eager to get back to his wife after I interrupted their getaway.
I held up a single finger. “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Marco.”
Enzo’s eyebrows drew down. “What about him?”
“Not to be morbid, but how’d it happen?”
“Morbid?” he repeated, confusion etched across his features.
“Yeah.” I rolled my wrist. “You know, so I’m not insensitive when I pay my respects to his family.”
“Pay your respects . . .” He shook his head. “The fuck are you talking about?”
My temper flared. “Stop repeating everything I say and tell me how Marco died!”
Blinking at me, he said, “Um, he’s not dead.”
