“No, you’re not,” I told her.
“Not woman’s work, this, is it?” Angus remarked. “Gianna, in an effort to make amends for what my nephew did to your brother, I’d like to offer you a gift. Would you like Victor’s tongue?”
“You…you’re sick!”
“No, only a man who punishes liars and traitors. You see, Victor thought it would be a good idea to try to save his neck by sliding a noose over mine.” Angus’ face changed, a look of disgust crossing it. “I don’t like federal agents on my doorstep. Family business is family business, isn’t it, boy?”
Victor’s only response was to grunt when one of the men beside him jabbed his elbow into his ribs, which I assumed were broken. At least, considering the bruising on every visible part of him, I imagined they must be.
“I know it was you. I know Victor was no more than your foot soldier,” Gia said.
“You know nothing.”
“How could you do it?” she asked. “You knew me and Mateo. We’ve eaten at your table. I’ve slept in your house. I was engaged to be married to your son. How could you order his death? How could you ordermine?”
“I never did like seeing you upset, Gianna.”
“Are you so heartless? So inhuman?”
“I loved James very much, and had he lived, I would have accepted you as my daughter.”
“Why me, then? Why order my execution?”
He didn’t answer.
“You’re a monster. You’re a horrible monster,” Gia said.
“I don’t leave loose ends. You can’t in my business. In cleaning up my nephew’s mess, I found he’d left quite a few. James didn’t leave them either, by the way. I know you liketo fool yourself into thinking he was somehow better than me, better than him—”
Angus pointed to me.
“But truth is, you’re surrounded by monsters, Gianna. And you attract them like flies. What does that say about you? What’s the expression? Like attracts like?”
“That’s enough, Scava,” I said, my eyes on Gia, who flinched at his words. I couldn’t tell what was going through her head. If she was buying his bullshit. I’d made sure she came unarmed. I wasn’t about to take a chance she’d do something as stupid as attempt to kill Angus Scava in the middle of his restaurant. “Get him out of here,” I said, gesturing toward Victor.
Scava nodded for the men to take Victor away.
“I want to go,” Gia said to me.
“You didn’t answer me. Did you want his tongue—” Angus asked again.
She flew at him, knocking the bottle and our full glasses over before I caught her. Two men standing behind Scava drew weapons.
“Put those away for Christ’s sake,” Scava ordered, picking up his napkin.
Gia struggled against me, but I held her tight. “This isn’t the place,” I said.
“You’re a sick, sick man,” she told him. “You want to give me a gift? You know what I want? I want for you to turn the gun you’ll use to kill him and put the bullet in your own head instead.”
I handed her off to one of my men. “That’s enough,” I told her. “Take her to the car.”
Angus sat there wiping at the bloodred liquid staining his clothes, his face, his hands.
“Let me down,” Gia cried. “Let me go.”
Once the door closed and Gia was gone, Scava looked up at me.
“I know you were involved, Angus. I know you’re the one who ordered Mateo’s killing and hers. Your nephew didn’t do it, though, not out of the goodness of his heart, of course. He wanted her humiliated. He wanted the woman your son loved degraded.” I shook my head. “Gia’s right. You are a monster. But you’re right too. We all are. You don’t go near her again, understand? She’s under my protection.” I knew my choices. The realistic ones.
