“President Byron has been shot,” the reporter informed us. “There has been another assassination attempt on the president of the United States.”
“Holy fucking shit,” I muttered.
“Exactly the words I was thinking,” Natalia said.
“Do you think Dad’s shooting and his are related?” Gigi asked.
And there it was.
Enzo’s father had been shot.
Thirty-Five
Enzo
The momentwe stepped into the private hall, I looked at Benny. “I want every damn detail. How’d you let this happen?”
Benny fell back a step, fire burning in his eyes, and he balled up his fists. I waited for him to punch me. If he did, it was deserved.
He shoved me instead. “How didIlet this happen? Someone shot Dad while he was in the back seat of the Escalade. I was at home, taking care of business, when I got the call.”
“The SUV wasn’t bulletproof?” I asked.
“That one wasn’t.”
“Why aren’tallof them bulletproof?” This time, I shoved him. “He shouldn’t even own a vehicle that isn’t.”
I wasn’t even the family boss or underboss, and I knew that shit.
Benny ignored my shove. Just like with mine earlier, he knew he’d deserved that.
He massaged the back of his neck. “He hasn’t had an assassination attempt since the Lombardi war.”
I didn’t miss the way his eyes drifted toward Antonio sincethat was his brother who’d done it. Sometimes, I wondered how much Benny had truly forgiven Antonio. They acted like brothers now, but I could tell Benny considered digging up Antonio’s father’s grave and killing him again for what he’d done.
While Antonio hadn’t been involved, his father had accidentally shot Neomi, Benny’s wife, when Benny was the intended target.
We lived in one small, murderous, fucked-up world.
While they were common in Mafia circles, each assassination attempt needed to be taken seriously. Someone had been ballsy enough to try with our father. They knew if they failed, the repercussions would be deadly.
“He’s currently in the OR with the best surgeon in the city,” Benny explained, running the back of his hand over his sweaty, creased forehead. “He was shot twice. Luckily, only one of the bullets made contact and went through his chest. Barely missed the heart.”
“Motherfuckers,” I hissed through my teeth before blowing out an upward breath. “Any idea who’s responsible?”
He shook his head. “We don’t have any existing wars happening. We’ve been at peace for a while, everyone knowing their place.”
“It was a black SUV,” Antonio added. “I have my men pulling up all the city camera footage. Whoever was behind it, we’ll find them. They won’t live long.”
He shook his head, fear and anger matching ours. Not only did he care about my father as a son-in-law, but he also didn’t want his wife to lose her father.
I nodded in agreement, and we paused for a moment as a nurse passed us. Everyone on this floor was on our payroll, but that didn’t mean we talked freely in front of them.
I cracked my knuckles, ready for violence and revenge.
Not only would the Marchettis be looking for whoever had shot my father but two other Mafia families—theCavallaros and Lombardis—would be searching as well. Not to mention, our connections in Chicago. We had also made friends with the head Bratva family who ran Boston.
Whoever had thought they were sly enough to cross us was royally fucked. If they hadn’t acted alone—which I doubted they had—everyone in their organization would be dead by the end of the week.
