“I’ll give her what she deserves.” His voice didn’t waver. “She disgraced my family. Betrayed you. I can’t stay quiet while she’s out living her life and we’re still here, too ashamed to even hold our heads up.”
“She’s my wife. I’ve already sent people after her. You’re not needed.”
Fabiano drew a deep breath. “Don Carlo, I need to do this. Please let me.”
I studied him in silence for a few beats. “You are your father’s youngest. From everything I’ve seen and heard, you’re also the softest. Your three older brothers are born killers. Why aren’ttheyheading to America to reclaim your family’s honor?”
“With all due respect, the fact that I don’t enjoy pointless slaughter doesn’t mean I’m soft. I believe killing should have a reason. Otherwise, it’s pointless.” He paused, then added, “As for my brothers, they don’t give a shit. Like you said, they’re sadistic bastards who only care about fucking, eating, and putting bullets in people. In Rome, they’re protected by your name. But in America? They’re nothing.”
He wasn’t wrong. Everything he said was true. But his motivation still didn’t sit right with me, so I pressed on.
“I don’t want Lucia dead. She needs to come back to Italy and face the consequences of what she did. But if you go on some solo crusade for honor, I guarantee Tony will have your throat slit and your body dumped in a dumpster before you even get a glimpse of her. He’s got real power over there. If my men couldn’t make any headway, you don’t stand a chance.”
My words didn’t faze him. “I accept the risk. And I swear, I won’t harm Lucia. I’ll have a better chance of bringing her in alive, if you think it through. Please, Don Carlo.”
I exhaled slowly, steeling myself as I played my last card, the one I hoped would knock some sense into him. “You’ll die in America.”
But his face didn’t change. With the same calm determination, he said, “I don’t care.”
I studied his face again, the face I knew I was likely seeing for the last time. Finally, I dipped my chin.
“I’ll call your father and give my consent. But if he decides to stop you, I won’t get in the way.”
Fabiano stood and reached for my hand, kissing it respectfully. “He already knows and doesn’t care. Thank you, Don Carlo.”
So that was it. Pietro had given up on his youngest son. The quiet one. The decent one. The one who never quite belonged in this world. Word had it Pietro considered him a disappointment, a son too polite, too principled for the family business.
After Fabiano left, Maxim lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled slowly. “Too pretty to die.”
I kept quiet, looking at my busted lip in the mirror. Maxim took another drag, the smoke curling lazily in the air.
“Brando’s clashed with Aldo’s crew,” he said indifferently.
I frowned as I looked at him, waiting for more.
“Aldo set up a ring on Brando’s turf and poached some of his best fighters. The rest were slaughtered. It’s obvious who’s behind it.”
My jaw clenched. That fucking idiot Brando was neck-deep in shit. But even Maxim’s beatdowns hadn’t shaken him loose. And now that word had spread I wasn’t backing him anymore, the sharks were closing in. Still, the stubborn bastard refused to take the oath.
Maxim broke the silence again. “Say the word, and Aldo and his crew will be nothing but a memory by tonight.”
I shook my head, voice firm. “No. That’s Brando’s decision to make.”
“He’s as stubborn as you are. You two might look different, but let’s face it, you’re cut from the same cloth.”
I shot him a warning look, earning a grin as he took another drag. The cigarette between his fingers burned quietly, the only sound in the room was the faint hiss of its ember
His words were true. Brando was a mirror of me in so many ways, and that wasn’t by chance. I’d raised him myself. Our father never got close to him, not when he couldn’t stand Brando’s mother. And Carmen was too busy soaking up the luxury to care about her kids.
Tony hated him. Hated all of us. If I hadn’t stepped in to shield Brando from Tony’s bullshit time and time again, the kid would’ve been dead before he hit puberty.
To Tony, everything should’ve been his, the power, the legacy, the family name. He was Don Francesco’s eldest grandson, and he believed my father stole the life that was meant to be his. So he punished the rest of us, and since I was protected, he aimed all that venom at Brando.
I couldn’t watch it happen. I took Brando under my wing and protected him in every way I could. Then Giuseppe and his scheming bullshit came to light, his plan to hand over whatshould’ve been mineto Brando. That flipped everything. Brando became a threat overnight. I didn’t hurt him, I couldn’t, but I pulled back.
Maxim’s voice yanked me out of it. “You know if you sit back and do nothing, they’ll kill him.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
