Page 45 of King of War

“So, it was supposedly the Russians who carried out the hit, yeah?”

Rocky is twelve years older than me, has been the head of his family for ten, and he’s never one to mince his words. So that supposedly sets me on edge. But I keep my cool. “Yeah.”

He takes another sip of his drink. “The don is making noises about it not being the Russians. Being all secretive and shit. He pulled me in for a chat yesterday and then told me he didn’t want to spoil Vinny’s funeral and would tell me more when it was all over with.”

I take a swig of my brandy, savoring the burn, and catch Nero Mancini staring at me across the room. “Why are you telling me this, Rocky?”

“I hear he had a similar meeting with Gian Caruso and Ilario Viscusi yesterday too. And he was whispering something in Tomasso’s ear this morning before the service. Looked like the same kind of conversation if you ask me.”

Tomasso is the head of the Russo family, and like Rocky, is another ally. I’m not worried about Carmine whispering in their ears, but I am concerned about who else he’s talking to.

“I have no doubt he’s spoken to Nero Mancini and Nico Bianchi too.” He glances around the room, nods to a woman with mascara streaked beneath her eyes who passes by him.

“So if not the Russians, then who’s responsible for the hit on the Bertellis, Rocky?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Who knows? It was interesting that Carmine asked me not to mention it to you though. Said you had a lot on your plate. And that made me think, why is the don keeping his number two in the dark about something so serious?”

I grind my jaw. Ivan Volkov was right, he is a fucking snake!

“Now me, I assume it’s because the don is up to something. But other people who don’t know you like I do…” He downs his Scotch and stares me dead in the eye. “They might think it’s you that’s up to something.”

My gaze drifts around the room. Nero Mancini isn’t staring at me now, but Gian Caruso is. And Ilario definitely seemed a little off before. So Ivan was right. The don is planning to peg this all on me. “I appreciate the heads-up. But if he sees you talking to me…”

“Relax. He’s fucking some brunette in the storage closet.”

“At his son’s funeral?”

Rocky smirks. “Classy guy. Although I heard he can’t get it up anymore.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “You heard? If I’m not mistaken it was you who spread that particular rumor.”

“You knew about that?” He chuckles. “I’m surprised I didn’t get a slap on the wrist for it. I know how he gets about people making fun of him.”

“Yeah, well, I had bigger issues to deal with than the don’s dick.” In truth, I let it go because it was harmless, funny as fuck, and probably true.

“Isn’t everything bigger than the don’s dick?”

I’m taking a sip of my brandy and almost snort it out of my nose. “What are you two snickering about?” Rafael asks, joining us. “And can you let me in on the joke because this thing is depressing as fuck.”

Rafael and Rocky exchange a few pleasantries, and then we’re joined by one of Rocky’s cousins. I only half pay attention to the conversation because I’m too focused on what Rocky just told me. Not to mention the side-eye I keep getting from Nero and his brother Marco. If we weren’t at a funeral I’d go over there and ask what their fucking problem is, but I don’t want to cause a scene, especially as I’m already under so much scrutiny already. I’ll deal with the Mancini brothers when the time is right.

I’ve had enough of this day, especially this ridiculous façade of a funeral where everyone is talking about what a good boy Vinny was. Truth is, almost every fucker in this room hated him.

“Hey there, I just thought I’d let you know that I’m going to leave now,” a soft feminine voice I now recognize as Vinny’s aunt Catherine comes up beside me. “But thank you for inviting me. I’m glad I was here. Lisa would have wanted that.”

“I’m sure Carmine appreciates you coming,” I tell her.

She huffs out a laugh and pats me on my forearm. “Now we both know that isn’t true, but I never came here for him so…” Her eyes get all misty. “He wasn’t always that way, you know. Vinny, I mean. He was such a sweet little boy, but then when he was left with only that monster to raise him what else could he have become but who he was.” She wipes away a tear from her cheek and tucks her gray hair behind her ear.

“Well, I’m sure his mom would have wanted you here, like you said.”

She smiles at that, and I can see the genuine affection she has for her sister. “You work for him, yes?” she asks.

For now, but I suspect not much longer. Instead of saying that, I nod.

“I’m sure a smart man like you doesn’t need my advice, but I’m going to give it you anyway. Don’t ever trust a word that comes out of that man’s mouth. He would sell you to the devil if he thought it might keep him out of hell.”

With that, she gives me another pat on the forearm and leaves. My brothers join me as soon as she’s gone, Rafael holding up a bottle of expensive cognac with such a look of pride on his face that I can only deduce he’s stolen it from the don’s private liquor cabinet. He fills our glasses. “When can we blow this snoozefest and go somewhere more fun?”