Chapter Twenty-Six #2
“The hits just keep coming, don’t they?” I offer dryly. “Unfortunately, my father stepped on a few toes along the way, and well, the best way to eliminate competition is from the outside; am I right, Damiano?”
The king of Connecticut scowls. “Why the fuck do you keep singling me out?”
I struggle to hold back my smirk. Guilt is a man’s worst enemy, and in Carmine’s case, his undoing. The guy’s poker face is shit. Then again, I’ve had him dancing on hot coals since my return from Providence. “Because you keep opening your mouth.”
“Christ…” Anton mutters.
“Enough, both of you,” Toscano snaps, his patience thinning. “I need confirmation of this, Gianni. That’s a serious allegation.”
Another slippery slope. One I have no choice but to roll the dice on.
“Before George Reese was murdered, he confided in Becca that while meeting with Flynn at the Port of Providence, he stumbled upon a shipping crate full of women,” I say, watching his expression harden like wet leather left out in the sun.
“The only thing an effort to intervene got him was a threat to traffick his daughter.”
“Reese was killed six days ago.”
“If that’s your subtle way of asking if I knew all this during our pleasant phone call the other day, you’re probably not going to like the answer,” I say bluntly, arching an eyebrow as his hand disappears under the table.
“However, before you get all trigger happy, you may want to hear the rest of the story. I promise it’s worth the price of admission. ”
It’s as if I threw a brick across the table. Immediately, Carmine’s chest caves in, his white Q-tip head snapping to the side. “Benito, you can’t seriously be considering?—”
“You have thirty seconds.”
I only need ten.
“You all heard the rumors coming out of Providence for yourself. Marcello knew the writing was on the wall, so once the numbers stopped adding up, Flynn got written out of the equation. My father mapped out a plan to shift Providence onto me all while keeping his business partner in the dark.”
“Ensuring we’d take him down in the crossfire,” Toscano adds sharply.
“Now you’re catching on.”
“And no one else knows about the existence of this trafficking ring?”
My smile resurfaces. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Gianni…” Anton cautions again, but I’m too far into this to scale back now. The blade is right there. I’ve drawn a thin line of blood. But I want more.
“I came across some information a few days ago from, shall we say, a passive participant in all this,” I continue. “Someone who had eyes and ears attached to the Irish pipeline and a vested interest in keeping the silent upper hand.”
“Be careful about implicating without proof, Gianni,” the capo dei capi warns.
“I’m always careful, Benny, and thorough.
Didn’t you ever wonder how an arranged marriage between two thirty-plus-year-old adults came about so abruptly?
On paper, my father had no reason to agree to such ridiculousness.
But behind closed doors…” I give an exaggerated shrug.
“Well, let’s just say extortion in the name of silence really moves the needle, huh, Carmine? ”
Toscano’s iron glare shifts to his right where the Connecticut don sits in a near catatonic state, sweat dripping down his temples. He looks like a melting ice sculpture.
“That’s a big accusation.”
“It’s not an accusation. It’s a fact.” Rising from my chair, I approach their masters-of-the-universe circle jerk, pull the envelope from inside my jacket, and slam it on the table in front of Toscano.
“I always wondered how my father knew about Victoria when I took so many precautions to keep her hidden. Then, a little birdie told me he was given the information, as well as an ultimatum. It seems the guarantee of silence buys a lot.”
Anticipation floods my veins as Toscano opens Cathalina’s envelope and looks inside.
Two seconds pass.
Then five.
Then ten.
At fifteen, he lifts his head, every cord in his neck ready to snap.
Carmine looks about ready to pass out.
“I bet it really rattled some chains when I showed up spilling all Marcello’s dirty secrets, huh?” I say, sliding a damning stare toward my target while dropping my palms on the table. “Probably enough to make someone lead the very Irishman he demanded I kill to my door.”
“Is this real?” Toscano’s voice is low, like the distant roll of thunder that echoes before lightning burns everything to the ground.
“As a heart attack.”
He turns a chilling side-eyed glare toward Carmine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such hatred in a man’s eyes. It’s cold and predatory, like flint-edged ice. “Thank you, Gianni. That’ll be all.”
I don’t want his fucking gratitude. I want a guarantee.
“Does that mean Becca no longer has to fear the world she married into?”
“You’ve kept your word, so I’ll keep mine,” he offers curtly.
“What about?—?”
“You’re dismissed.” His crisp, sharp tone leaves no room for rebuttal.
There’s more meaning layered between those two words than an entire dictionary could hold.
I know what’s going to happen, but it’s not my problem.
Becca once told me the intent driving a choice affects the impact of its consequence.
I thought it was psychobabble bullshit at the time, but considering how things worked out, she may have been onto something.
We’re taught that good guys always win, and bad guys always lose…
But what happens when the bad guy falls in love with the good girl?
This . This is what happens. The world somehow rights itself, and you don’t question it.
I give Cathalina’s father one last look and smile. “ Ciò che il sangue lega, solo la morte spezza.”
What blood binds only death breaks.
He’s about to find out how true that is.
Pushing off the table, I do something that goes against everything I know.
I turn my back to four armed men. Anton stands, his expression blank, and follows me as I walk toward the exit where Sergio stands waiting to return our guns.
Once our weapons are holstered, he quickly ushers us out, the door closing to the sound of Carmine’s frantic pleas.
As we descend the stairs, one thing keeps repeating in my head, an unavoidable truth that men like Carmine Damiano and my father never understood.
Sin is an irreversible stain on the soul….
One that sooner, or later, always finds its way to the surface.