“I can’t take in Orazio now. We need him as a spy.”

Matteo rolled his eyes. “I know, and he will return to Chicago.” He’d been rising in rank since Valentina married Dante. As her brother he was our perfect asset.

“Did you hear what I said? We can talk to the photographer tomorrow. Orazio already questioned him and it’s like Aria said, she met with Val, then Dante joined them and forced Aria to leave the restaurant with him, but tomorrow you can make him tell you the same thing again if you don’t believe me.”

I nodded, but apart from that didn’t react. My outsides were stone but I couldn’t control my fucking insides. I felt fucking relieved, but it didn’t matter anymore. Yesterday had showed me one thing: I had grown weak because of Aria. She was a weakness—a weakness I couldn’t allow myself as Capo.

“So will you help me interrogate that asshole?”

I smirked. “Sure.”

Matteo frowned. “I’m not sure you really get what I’m telling you.”

“Oh I do,” I said quietly. “Aria went to Chicago behind my back. That is fact. She didn’t cheat, who gives a fuck?” The words seemed to scorch my throat. A fucking lie. Even thinking of Aria being with someone other than me felt like a stab in the heart.

A weakness.

I’d never been weak in my life.

Aria was a weakness I couldn’t allow myself.

Matteo shook his head. “Whatever. Tomorrow we’ll talk to that photographer. Maybe you’ll be more tolerable afterwards.”

Orazio nodded at me as I shook his hand. He was only a couple of inches shorter than me. It was unmistakable that he was related to Valentina. Same eyes, same hair color. At least he wasn’t fawning over Dante.

Dante. My blood boiled only thinking of him, of his hands on Aria’s shoulders, of his mouth close to her ear, and his fucking arm between her legs...

Matteo shoved me. “Will you snap out of it for fuck’s sake? I can’t have you go on another killing spree.”

“Why not? I’m sure it will silence many of our enemies.”

Matteo shook his head before he turned to Orazio, who was listening with mild interest.

“Where is the asshole?” Matteo asked.

“Trunk. Pissed his pants. That’s why I didn’t want him on my backseat,” Orazio said. He led us to the back of his BMW and opened the trunk. A short, fat guy in his thirties was curled up inside. He stank of piss, shit and sweat. He blinked up at us through teary eyes, his mouth covered with tape.

I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out, then thrust him to the ground. Behind us the building of the old Yonkers power plant rose into the sky.

Gateway to Hell.

I smiled down at the sniveling man on the ground as he watched me like I was the devil. “So you took those pictures?” I asked in a low growl as I knelt down beside the man, unsheathing my knife from my chest holster. I removed the tape so he could talk, but more than that: so I could hear his screams.

He eyed the blade with open horror. “Please! I only did what I was paid to do. I didn’t mean any harm.”

My smile widened. This was who I was destined to be. Brutal. Cruel. Merciless. Not the fucking emotional mess Aria turned me into.

Most of the time I let Matteo handle the torture because he was a master at it. He loved to play with his victims. I preferred the kill. Not today. Orazio and Matteo stood back as I dealt with the photographer. He’d long revealed his last secret when I plunged my knife into his fucking heart and granted him death. For a long time, there was silence after that as I tried to get a handle on my fury.

Dante had let the photographer take those photos and had sent them to me because he knew Aria was my fucking weakness. He’d hoped I’d lose my shit, had hoped I’d go on a rampage, maybe even attack Chicago. I wasn’t sure.

Orazio cleared his throat. “I also found out yesterday that Gottardo and Ermano contacted Dante a few weeks ago to help him throw you over. Dante was wary of them, thought it was a trap, but in our meeting yesterday Scuderi encouraged him to trust in them.”

“Gottardo and fucking Ermano. Those fucking bastards,” I hissed, focusing on them instead of the fact that Dante fucking Cavallaro had tried to make me believe Aria had an affair with him. Fuck him!

Love, a fucking weakness!

Matteo watched me cautiously as if he thought I’d snap Orazio’s or his neck just to kill something. “At least it’s only them and a couple of low soldiers. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Oh we will handle them,” I said. “I wish I hadn’t given Gottardo a quick death.”

“You crushed his throat, Luca. There are nicer ways to die,” Matteo said. Orazio’s eyebrows rose in mild curiosity.

“Nicer than what Ermano will get.”

“For sure,” Matteo said.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll return to Chicago before someone notices I’m gone,” Orazio said. I gave him a quick nod. He exchanged a few more words with Matteo before he drove off.

Matteo stepped up to my side. “So Aria didn’t cheat.”

“We should attack tonight. I want to weed out the root of our problem as soon as possible. The family is full of traitors, I always knew Gottardo was one. And now Ermano too. Those two were always thick.”

Matteo scowled. “Luca, did you hear what I said?”

I got into his face. “Stay out of my marriage, Matteo, and you’d better make sure your own wife doesn’t turn you into a fucking fool.”

Matteo didn’t say anything, and it was for the best because I was out for blood again.

That night, Romero, Matteo and I attacked Ermano’s holiday house in the Hamptons. Ermano was supposed to return to Atlanta in the morning. He would never return. Orfeo and Demetrio were on their way to capture Gottardo’s other legitimate son. I knew Demetrio would have no trouble handling his half-brother. No love was wasted between those two.

I killed Ermano’s first soldier with a twist of his neck before he could call out a warning, Matteo took down the second with his knife. Not waiting to see if Romero had disabled the third, I raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. A door to my right opened, and I slashed my knife toward the person and arched up in the last second, impaling the blade a couple of inches above the head of a young girl. Her mouth opened for a cry and I clamped my hand down on her lips. She struggled as my arm wrapped around her waist. She fought hard as I leaned down to her ear. “Not a sound. Nothing will happen to you, Kiara.” Her eyes flickered with recognition. “Where is your father?”

My cousin pointed toward the door at the end of the corridor, her upper arms littered with bruises. I released her and she looked at me with huge eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. My eyes took in the bruises on her collarbones and her swollen cheek. Ermano was my father’s brother through and through.

Matteo ran toward me and I pushed Kiara toward him, then crept toward the door she had indicated. She hadn’t lied. She had no reason to. Before I could open the door, someone else did. His wife stood before me. Ermano must have sent her to investigate the noise. Fucking coward.

I shoved her to the side and barely managed to avoid a bullet. Ermano was hiding behind the massive bed and firing at me. A heavy thud sounded a second before I flung myself to the ground and pulled my own gun. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw his wife on the ground, bleeding from a wound in her head. Ermano had shot his own wife by accident, or perhaps on purpose—who knew what went on in the crazy fucker’s head? I wouldn’t shoot him. That would be too quick.