“I have to work,” I clipped and returned to my office. Giovanni sat in his usual chair again, looking out of the window.

I closed the door and released a long breath.

Giovanni slanted me a look. “Maybe this is God’s way to punish us.”

I walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured us generous glasses of Scotch. “I don’t believe in a higher power. That won’t change now. My mother would probably say we’re cursed.” I laughed bitterly and downed a considerable amount of the burning liquid before I handed Giovanni a glass.

“I’m not a believer either, but sometimes I wonder…”

“What kind of message would it send to punish us for our sins by favoring other sinners?” Luca and Remo certainly deserved hell as much as I did.

“It’s good that your father doesn’t realize what’s going on anymore.”

“Dementia turns out to be his blessing,” I said sarcastically. It spared me his disapproval anyway.

I perched on the edge of the desk, downing the rest of my drink. “What do you think should I do?”

Giovanni looked surprised. “Don’t you think I’m too emotionally involved to give you advice?”

“Who of us isn’t emotionally involved at this point, Giovanni? I’m fucking furious over this development. I want to torture and kill until the fire in my veins abates. Do you think I’m in a state to make strategic decisions?”

“You are Capo, but you are human too.”

I chuckled without joy. “I’m not without failure, that much is clear. Two high-ranking sons in enemy famiglias.” I poured myself more scotch. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had more than a glass.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know if killing them will change anything. The damage is done.”

“Someone needs to bleed for this. I have to make sure my men know I’ll punish them harshly if they break their vow.”

Giovanni pushed to his feet. “Over the years, I made my peace with the situation. For Livia and for Val, and even for myself.”

“Then you’ve come farther than I have. Peace is the last thing on my mind.”

Giovanni smiled sadly. “I know. And I’m at your side no matter what you decide. Just remember that a war on two fronts might rip the Outfit apart. All I want is for our family to be safe.”

“Trust me, Giovanni, my family’s safety is my top priority.”

Val, Leonas and Anna were always at the back of my head when I made crucial decisions, decisions that might lead to brutal retaliation.

“If you excuse me now, I need to figure out a way to break this to Livia.” He sighed. “We need good news.”

I didn’t say anything, too torn between blinding rage and despair. If it were just me I had to worry about, I’d attack Boston and kill Orazio, then move on to Vegas to finish Fabiano. But I wasn’t alone.

I downed the rest of my drink.

Giovanni slipped out and closed the door. I slanted a glance over to the photos. Why had Fabiano chosen the Camorra and not the Famiglia? It made absolutely no sense. Back when he’d run away, the Camorra had been in shambles. He couldn’t hope to find anything in the West except for a painful death. Luca would have taken him in, for Aria, to spite me…

A new wave of rage boiled up. Luca risked a lot by making Orazio Underboss. Not only was he born into the Outfit but his wife wasn’t Italian. His Famiglia couldn’t be happy about that development.

Of course, I knew why he did it. To taunt me.

A knock sounded, tearing me from my thoughts.

Val stepped in without waiting for me to invite her in. It was a common occurrence but today my patience had run thin. “I didn’t ask you to come in.”

Val raised her eyebrows then crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not one of your soldiers, Dante, so don’t treat me like one of them.”

I gritted my teeth. She was right. I shouldn’t unleash my anger on her, but right now I felt close to detonating and didn’t want her close.

She took a step closer, but I shook my head.

“I need time to think.”

“What happened? My father and Rocco looked like they’d seen a ghost. Is it about Orazio?”

“Valentina,” I said sharply. “I don’t feel like talking now. I really need to think.”

“Very well,” Val said, her expression making it very clear that it wasn’t. “If you’ve calmed down, maybe then we can have a conversation between partners. I’m not in the mood to be treated like one of your subjects.” She turned before I could say more and left the room, throwing the door shut with more force than was necessary.

I grabbed the edge of the desk, closing my eyes. I hated fighting with Val.

“What’s gotten into Dad?” Leonas asked curiously when I stepped into the library where I’d sent Anna and him so they could practice their instruments. Leonas’ pressed the piano keys with little enthusiasm and Anna, too, only randomly tugged at the strings of her harp. She had never warmed up to the piano, so we’d switched her to the harp two years ago, with success.

“He’s just a bit stressed. He’s got plenty of work to do.”

“It’s because Uncle Orazio is a traitor?”

I frowned, wondering where Anna had picked that up. It was impossible to keep everything from them. At only nine and six, my children knew more than I wanted them to.

“I don’t know. Don’t worry about it, all right? Everything is going to be fine. Your dad just needs some time to work in peace.”

“Okay,” Anna mumbled and began to play a beautiful song on her harp.

Leonas got up from the piano bench and walked toward me. I ran my hand through his hair, which had gotten long again, so he had to blow it out of his eyes constantly. “When I’m Capo, I’ll fire Rocco’s dad. I don’t want him as my Consigliere.”

I stifled a smile and hugged him to me. “That’s still a long time to go. I’m sure he’ll have retired by then.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll just have him killed.”

I froze. “Leonas, don’t talk like that.”

He looked up curiously. “Why not? It’s the truth. Dad kills people all the time.”

Anna tugged harder at the strings of her harp and hummed along to the melody.

I lowered my voice and gave him a stern look. “Who said that?”

“Rocco and Riccardo. Their father talks to them about a lot of stuff. And I’ve overheard Enzo and Taft in the kitchen too.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.”

He tilted his head. “But it’s true, right? The mob kills people and Dad tells his soldiers who. Like traitors and people he doesn’t like.”

I wasn’t sure what to tell him. He was six, a small boy, and yet he knew these things, talked about death as if it was something ordinary. I swallowed. “You know you shouldn’t talk about these things with other people, right?”

“I know,” Leonas said. “You and Dad always say that we need to keep it a secret. I never tell Outsiders anything.”

I glanced at my watch. “Go back to your piano practice now. Are you done with your homework?”