15
ARMANI
“Tellme again why we aren’t just taking out Guerra,” Clayton says, looking genuinely confused.
It’s not the first time he’s suggested killing Juliana, but removing her from the picture—permanently—to “solve” the Bruno War just isn’t the quick-fix solution that my brother-in-law seems to think it is.
I’ve done a lot of questionable things, yes, but the thought of murdering a woman is inherently distasteful to me. Not only that, but murdering this particular woman would invite major backlash from the Russian mob as well, and it will be far worse than what we’ve come to expect from the Brunos, because Juliana is the fiancée of a Bratva kingpin.
Not to mention the fact that Marco is still convinced she’s our dead sister. And she’s Candi’s best friend.
“We’re not doing that,” Marco says flatly, proving my point.
“In terms of expediency—” Clayton begins.
“No,” I cut him off swiftly. “I’m with Marco. For once.”
“So am I,” Dante says. As the actual boss of this family, his word is law.
Clayton just shrugs, slumping in his chair and taking a hard swallow of his whiskey.
I’ve gathered my brothers and Clayton on our yacht in the Napa River harbor. Considering how frequently we’ve been infiltrated by moles in the past, I figured it was the safest place to discuss our next move. Which won’t include killing Juliana Guerra.
But there’s already tension in the air, and I have a feeling it’s about to get much worse.
Usually, war room meetings like this are a flurry of opinions, one on top of the other. Not today. Ever since the bakery fire and the resulting revenge-murder of Candi’s brother, my whole family has been laying low, everyone subdued but anxious.
Now, I know it’s on me to figure out our next move, and the pressure has left me sleepless and irritable. In a word, I’ve been a real asshole lately. Though I generally like to be left alone to make big decisions, this feels too high-stakes to decide on my own. My ego isn’t so big that I’m incapable of recognizing when I might be making a misstep.
I need my brothers’ input. And Clayton’s, too.
The other families in our circle don’t know that I’ve called this meeting to arrange another offensive against the Brunos. This assault is too personal to involve anyone else. Besides, I suspect my colleagues will want to let the ashes cool a while longer before stirring things up again. They, like us, are bracing for the possibility of a major Bratva counterstrike.
Which is why the Bellantis need to strike first, and make it successful this time.
The clink of ice against glass tumblers is the only sound on the deck as my brothers silently sip their drinks.
“I know you said no,” Clayton says, holding his palms up, “but I just want to reiterate one last time that getting rid of Guerrawouldremove the link between the Brunos and the Bratva. Sergio Bruno doesn’t have another eligible bachelorette in his back pocket that he can marry off to seal the deal. He’ll be forced to renegotiate with the Russians, but before they do, we can double-strike. Kick ‘em while they’re down and rip their balls off. That’s all I’m saying.”
“They’re not ‘down,’” I snap. “The fire killed a few of Bruno’s men, but no one of importance. If anything, it’s made him even more bloodthirsty than before. He’s probably already got three soldiers in line to replace every one that he lost.”
“My answer stands,” Dante says. “Killing her will only bring violence back at us ten-fold, not to mention that we still haven’t determined if she’s related to us. And as a rule, I don’t condone killing women.”
Clayton nods and takes another long swallow of his drink.
“How’s your work on the boating accident going?” I ask, eager to change the subject.
With a shrug, Clayton says, “I’m still going through the police reports, but there don’t seem to be any answers there. As for the eyewitness who called in the Coast Guard—he only saw the smoke, that was it. Nothing but floating debris left when maritime response arrived.”
“Dead ends,” I say with disgust.
“Not all dead,” he says. “I tracked down one of Bruno’s old associates. A retiree, like you wanted. Not by choice, as it were. He’s in the state prison over in Sacramento, locked up on racketeering charges. I was thinking I’d pay him a little visit.”
“Do it,” I say. “And if he won’t talk, find out if he has friends who will.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll talk,” Clayton says darkly.
“That’s all good and well,” Dante cuts in, “but our priority right now isn’t playing Nancy Drew. It’s keeping the Bratva from making a pact with the Brunos. We’re up against a wall, more than we ever have been in the past. We need a plan.”
