“He’s not innocent. He touched what’s mine.”
“Tierney?” my older brother sighed.
I jerked my chin in a nod. I’d only ever claimed one thing as truly my own.
All the rest—money, prestige, power, cars—didn’t mean jack shit.
Luca and Enzo exchanged looks.
“You look like you’ve had a bad day,” Enzo said, pushing off the kitchen counter and opening his arms. “Can I give you a hug?”
“Fuck off.”
Enzo turned to look at Luca, who gave him an impersonal shoulder pat. “That’s a no.”
“Don’t say I didn’t try.”
They thought I lacked control where Tierney was concerned. They couldn’t be more wrong. I was nothing but the picture of bridled restraint. If I lacked control, we’d have been married with fifteen children by now. One for every year I’d known her. And there wouldn’t be a filleted corpse in my office.
If I didn’t have control, things would look fantastic for everyone involved. It was my very control that ruined lives.
“Let’s go.” I shouldered past them. “I’ve a shit ton of blood to clean tonight. Another twenty-one grams won’t make much difference.”
Chapter Four
Achilles
It wasn’t justSangue Blu at the meeting.
The round table was filled with the upper echelon of the Coppola clan. Stefano sat across from my father, who had donned some makeup to give his lifeless skin some vitality.
My mouth curled in distaste. My father pathetically clung to the last shreds of his existence. I’d kill him myself if I had any sense of altruism. But I needed him to crown me his rightful heir first. Do things by the book. My position couldn’t be contested.
He’d be a fool to deny me the role. Enzo was too softhearted. Luca had the charisma of pencil lead. Another nameless Ferrante bastard lurked somewhere in the world, but that was just who he was—a bastard. If he was stupid enough to come forth and challenge me, I’d treat him to a butcher’s special.
Sangue Blu was a medium-height man, athletically built, clad in formfitting cigar pants and a silky dress shirt. His dark hair was tied into a ponytail. He had a snakelike air about him, a combination of elegance and repulsiveness many ugly, powerful men wore.
“Achilles.” He opened his arms. “Anything you want to say to me?”
The entire room eyeballed me, waiting for an apology for killing his underboss.
“Sure. The ponytail looks stupid.” I grabbed the back of a chair, taking a seat. Luca and Enzo followed suit. I coiled my fingers together on the table. “Why are you here?”
Stefano’s beady eyes danced with perverse excitement. He rolled his pinky ring with his thumb. “What, no pleasantries?”
“That ship has sailed. Now start talking before it fucking sinks.”
“All right, fine.” He rolled his eyes, the gesture dripping amusement. “I’m here to shake hands.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Just like that?”
“Any day is a good day for peace.”
“I slaughtered your underboss.”
“Dante had it coming. He should’ve never touched that little girl. I’d have done it myself if you had waited a few days.” He waved me off. “Plus, I blew up the church and took out fourteen of the guests before his body stiffened.” Sangue Blu shrugged. “A sufficient payback in my book.”
None of said guests were family or even high-ranking Camorristi. No women or children were hurt, either. Then again, he already knew that. That he chose to settle things diplomatically told me something was off.
