Arturo leans toward me with a glare. “The whore was telling the truth?”
“She is not a whore,” I seethe, momentarily letting my control slip before I rein it in.
Rosa is pale, looking between us, but says again to her father, “Daddy. Fix this.”
“She’ll be killed.” Arturo stands. “Problem solved.”
I surge into him, fisting his throat, ready to rip it out. It takes both my father and Marco to pull me away.
“Control yourself,figlio.”
I glare at him, hating that he put me in this position. But hating myself more that I hadn’t called him on his bullshit before now. Hating that I’ve lied to the woman who is my world. Who is upstairs, locked in our bedroom, likely thinking I was just using her.
I step back from Arturo, and calm settles within me. It’s not fake or forced; it’s authentic, as I remember the report Johnathan had given me.
“Our marriage is legal.”
“Even if it is, that can be fixed,” Arturo grinds out.
“If you touch a hair on my wife’s head, I’ll slaughter you.” My words are spoken as if I just told him we were havingpasta alla normafor dinner.
“Tommaso,” my father warns, stepping closer, likely to stop me from attacking this piece of shit standing in my home.
Arturo snorts a laugh. “You and what army, boy?” He looks at my father, then back to me. “Stefano backs this alliance, and he’s Don. You’re just his puppet here in the States. You can’t fucking touch me.”
“I can if you harm or even threaten my wife as per ‘Ndrangheta law.”
My father clamps his hand on my shoulder, a question or maybe a warning on his face.
“Gina is pregnant. She’s carrying my heir.”
Rosa’s gasp breaks the silence that my bombshell announcement caused. “It’s a bastard.” Her voice quivers. “Even if she is pregnant, they won’t recognize it.”
Even if Gina wasn’t my wife, if I claimed the child she carried as mine, in the eyes of the ‘Ndrangheta, it would still stand. Heirs are sacred to us.
I don’t bother to explain this to Rosa; if she doesn’t know, then I don’t give a shit about enlightening her.
Her eyes are wide with panic as she stares at her father. “Vincenzo won’t allow this. He wouldn’t.”
Which brings us to the delicate situation that they know Gina is here, while everyone thinks she’s missing. And based on Rosa’s comment, I suspect they know Vincenzo has been searching for her.
Are they in league with Caruso, too? What the hell is the endgame here? And why the fuck is my father involved?
He’s a criminal leader, cold and ruthless when it’s required. But he raised us with a code of honor and morals. Put us through trials and tests while we rose through the ranks of our family to get the positions we hold.
Arturo is a snake. He doesn’t give a shit about anything except accruing more power and wealth.
My hand slips into the pocket of my jacket, feeling the bullet on the leather strap. Normally, if I order a man’s death, or I kill him myself, it’s done after deliberation, unless it’s in the heat of a battle. It’s never a knee-jerk, emotional decision. But with Arturo, and anyone else who’s a threat to my wife, I’ll killwithout hesitation. I’ll rip them to shreds with my bare hands, letting the unhinged beast within me rule.
My father’s eyes dip to my hand in my pocket, knowing the talisman I keep in there and its significance. He gives a slight shake of his head, his brow pinched in a frown.
“Vincenzo will be very interested to know you have Gina, Tommaso,” Arturo says, pulling my attention back to him. “Particularly interested in why you lied to him.”
He confirms that Vincenzo confided in him that he asked me to search for Gina.
He tuts, shaking his head. “Lying to the head of the ‘Ndrangheta does not bode well for you, boy.”
My teeth grind at him calling me boy, reminding me that I don’t have true power. Not within our syndicate at least. I don’t get a vote. When the Dons are deciding on things that impact the whole, they vote, and the Pisani Don’s vote, as the founding family, carries more weight. If they voted, they’d need four Dons in favor, along with Vincenzo’s vote to make it a majority.
