“Do you know anything about your mother’s death?”
“Where in the fuck is that coming from?” He jerked his arm out of my grasp.
“Padre told me a woman named Cara killed my mother, and yours and Rosa’s.”
“That’s absurd. How could one woman kill all our mothers? That sounds like the musings of an old, druggedman.” Roman shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Sixty-four isn’t that old. And he was coherent.” I exhaled a deep breath. “I remember the name Cara. The day my mother died, it was a woman on the side of the road having car trouble. Mamma told Roberto to stop to offer help. Placido, our bodyguard, went out and so did Mamma because she knew the woman. Cara.” I closed my eyes and saw a dark figure holding a gun.
“Ciro, are you okay?” Roman patted my arm.
My eyes flashed open. “Padre said it was Cara’s brother who killed my mother. The maid helped them.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know.” I threw my hands up. “A scorned woman and all that, I guess.”
“That’s fucking insane.”
“Yeah, it is. I need to get out of here.” I felt like a caged animal in the hospital.
“What are you going to do?”
“Get a breather. Find out who and where the fuck this Cara is.” And then, blow her brains out for killing my mother.
“Let me know what you find out. I’d like a piece of her, too.”
“Sure. I’ll save a hand for you.” I walked out of the hallway.
“I want her heart,” he whisper-shouted.
I gave him a thumbs up. Rage pumped in my veins. But I was also furious with my father. How could he keep these details from my brothers and me? It was like he’d been protecting our mothers’ murderer and that fucking wasn’t okay with me.
Well, I wasn’t my father.
I would find Cara and she’d soon meet the same fate as my mother.
16
CIRO
I stormedinto the mansion and went straight to Padre’s private office. There had to be information about Cara. Thinking of her name literally made me sick to my stomach.
I tugged on each drawer of his mahogany desk and they were all locked.
“Figlio di puttana!” I spat motherfucker into the air.
“What are you doing?” Wolf, my sister’s husband, asked from the entrance. I hadn’t bothered closing the doors.
“Come over here.” I waved him over. I was the Don of the family now and could do whatever the fuck I wanted. “You’re a thug. Open these doors.”
“You want me to break into Alessio’s private drawers?” He hiked one of his dark eyebrows.
“Yes. Don’t act like an alter boy, when you’re a fucking biker and connected to the Bratva.” What was his problem? He had probably committed more crimes than me so he’d better wipe that judgmental glare off his Russian face.
“Tell me what you’re looking for.” He kneeled and examined one side of the desk.
“For information on a woman named Cara.”
