“Good. We’re agreed then.” Richard steps forward, jerking his head at me. “He fucked with my family. Now I want retribution.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Michele clips out.
Richard holds my gaze. “Does the name Ethan Holloway ring any bells?”
I give him nothing. No response. Not so much as a muscle twitch. I can feel Angelo’s gaze on me, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s connecting the dots himself. But he doesn’t give it away.
“Why don’t we skip the theatrics, and you can tell us why we’re here,” Angelo says.
“My nephew,” Richard spits out. “He’s a student at Laurelhaven University, and he’s been implicated by the evidence leaked to the police. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Do you think I have time to concern myself with what a bunch of frat boys are doing?” Angelo grits out.
“Maybe not.” Richard shrugs. “But I think Romeo does, considering his little girlfriend met up with Nate and his friends the night they went missing.”
I clench my fists as Rafe edges closer, bracing for another episode. He seems to understand that even a reference to Gabi out of this fuckface’s mouth has the potential to set me off.
“I don’t suppose you have any evidence to support that claim,” Angelo replies.
“Nate told his friends he was meeting up with Gabriela that night, and this has the mob written all over it,” Richard growls. “According to Cal, he has first-hand knowledge that Romeo disposes of your liabilities.”
“Ray Dalton.” Cal drops the name like it’s classified information. “I know you remember that meeting we had last year, Angelo. Romeo bled that fucker dry, and you can’t deny it.”
“Ironic you want to talk about liabilities,” Angelo says.
“That’s how you want to play this?” Richard narrows his eyes. “You aren’t the only outfit in town, Vitale.”
“Go on, then.” Angelo laughs. “See how well you fare with the Bratva.”
“I’m not talking about the Bratva.” Richard smirks. “I’m talking about the Greeks.”
A current of tension charges the air as that information settles over us. Richard may as well have come right out and said he has a death wish.
“You want to align with Ares Stavros?” Angelo steps forward, the menace in his tone unmistakable. “Then you’d better plan your own funeral. You forget you hold office because of me. Dirty politicians are a dime a dozen, and I can have another one on my payroll tomorrow. Same goes for all of you.”
Silence stretches, the promise of violence lingering between us. If it were up to me, I’d murder every one of these fuckers right now. But Angelo is far more pragmatic than I am. He might be calling their bluff, but I know him. He wants to avoid a war now that he has a wife and baby at home.
“Well, that’s a bit dramatic.” Ares emerges from the shadows behind the van, and a collective groan rumbles through my brothers. “I thought we were finally getting along so well.”
“I should have known you had your fingers in this.” Angelo glares at him. “You can’t leave well enough alone.”
“Yes, well, you know I’ve had my fingers in…all sorts of things.”
“You better not be talking about my fucking sister,” Rafe pipes up.
“Weird of you to make that connection.” Ares smirks. “But if you must know?—”
“Think wisely before you utter the rest of that sentence,” Angelo interjects.
“Fine, have it your way.” Ares shrugs. “I have no interest in reigniting the feud between our families. You know I’m all about peace and love.”
“What’s your game here?” Cristian asks. “If you think this is your chance at worming your way back into Mariella’s life, you’re delusional.”
“You make a valid point,” he answers mildly. “I doubt murdering all her brothers would endear her to me. Fortunately for me, I don’t really care if she likes me or not.”
“Could have fooled me.” Michele snorts. “You spend an awful lot of time meddling in our lives for someone who has no interest.”
“Oh, I didn’t say I had no interest.” Ares’s eyes glint with satisfaction. “I said I didn’t care whether she likes me or not. They do say hate sex is some of the best sex?—”
