Salvatore sits at the head of the table, a glass of something dark in his hand, untouched. Raffaele leans back in his chair to his right, arms crossed, watching the door like he’s been waiting. Eli is close to the window, half turned.
They all look up when I enter.
“Where were you?” Salvatore asks as I pull out a chair and take a seat.
“Taking care of business,” I answer vaguely. “Welcome back. You’ve got a glow about you. Good to see you happy, big brother.”
“Thanks,” he says gruffly. “Now, status report. “What’s gone on since I left? I know you failed to capture the Shadow.”
My hand curls into a fist and I try not to have a visible reaction at the mention of our eldest brother.
“Dante left the country a few days ago. He could be anywhere right now,” I state.
Salvatore is quiet for a moment. Not the silence of indifference, the silence of a man choosing what to do with something that costs him. I watch him work through it.
“Good,” he says finally.
That surprises me. “Good?”
“I made that proclamation in the heat of it. The night of my wedding, with Marco bleeding on the floor and my brothers screaming in my ear about honor and precedent.” He sets down his glass. “I’m not going to kill Dante. He’s my brother. But I needed him out of this city, out of reach, somewhere he can’t make another move until I’ve had time to think.”
“And now that he’s gone?”
“Now I can think.” He meets my eyes. “Find out where he is. Don’t approach him. Don’t move on him. Just know. When the time comes to have that conversation, I want to be the one who walks through his door. Not a team of men with orders I gave in a moment of anger.”
I nod slowly. That’s the Salvatore I know. The proclamation was due to a wound to his ego.
“The Shadow later, then,” I agree. “The Bratva first.”
“Talk to me about the Bratva. Elio says you have a plan.”
“It’s a work in progress,” I tell him.
“Come on, Matty,” Raffaele taunts with a grin, shifting forward as his interest sharpens. “Let’s see what that big beautiful brain of yours has been able to map out.”
I roll my eyes. My brothers are irritating, but they’re right. I do have a plan.
Ensuring I have their rapt attention, I lean forward before speaking. “There are four steps to dismantling the Bratva in this city-”
“Only four?” Elio questions, amused.
I glare at him for the interjection and he hurriedly apologizes.
“Go on,fratello,” Salvatore urges.
“As I was saying, they don’t have as much of a strong hold as they’d like everyone else to believe. And while they may have power, they’ll fall just as easily if everything goes according to my plan.”
“What’s the first step?”
I fold my hands loosely on my knees, “We don’t hit them directly. Right now, they’re currently stable, structured. If we go in hard now, we unify them even more. We give them something to fight against.”
“So we do what? Sit back? That doesn’t sound like fun,” Raffaele says, ever impatient.
“We’re going to dismantle them,” I correct. “Quietly. First thing we target is their money. We interrupt shipments, intercept a couple of deliveries, and we could even take some of their product. All of this has to be done stealthily. They can’t trace it back to us.”
“Why?”
“To make it look like internal failure,” Elio murmurs, catching on quickly.
