He’s an arsehole, I can’t believe this shit. “Whatever,” I reply, knowing damn well that I won’t be telling him fucking shit. “Have you got Kurt on this too?” I hide my smile when his eyes flash with anger and his back straightens.
“Kurt’s currently lying low.” Oh I fucking bet he is. “He’s in trouble with the law again. Fucker can’t keep out of trouble.” He shakes his head in disappointment, and I know what he really means, Kurt’s lying low so that he won’t rat my father out about the shootings at my wedding. “Where are those useless, no-good brothers of yours?” he asks, glancing around the room, as if seeing if he can locate them.
“They’re here, they have been for a while,” I answer. I saw them as soon as I walked in the room. It’s another reason why my father is fucking shit at being the Boss, he’s too wrapped up in his own business to be on the look-out for danger.
He glances around the room once again and I see the exact moment when he sees them. “Fucking Romero,” he mutters and I turn to see my brother with a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Can’t that motherfucker do as he’s told once in his fucking life?”
“He’s having a drink,” I say as I scan the room. Everyone’s here now and they’re milling about as they wait for my father to get his shit together and speak to them.
“He’s useless, he’ll never amount to anything,” he says through clenched teeth. “He’s always been useless. He’s no good for the Famiglia, and he’s only here because he’s my son.” He spits out the word son as though it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
How the hell did we not kill this motherfucker before now?
He turns and walks up the steps to the balcony, and like a fucking asshole he towers over us, like he’s some fucking king. “Gentlemen,” he says loudly, cutting through all the murmurs from the other men. “Welcome.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics, he thinks he’s the fucking Godfather.
“Those Russian bastards are still on the loose, how close are we at finding them?”
Makenna and Romero have been trying to find out where the fuck those assholes are lying low. We keep hitting dead end after dead end. Not only that, they haven’t been able to find out how Kurt managed to tip them off about our wedding.
“Nothing yet, Boss, we have all the men on it. They’re going to turn up sooner or later,” Angelo speaks up. He’s one of my men, he’s loyal to me and I know that when the time comes he’ll have my back.
“Well keep your eyes open and ears peeled. Those fuckers can’t have gotten far.” The men nod at my father’s words. “Okay, now does anyone have anything they need to say?”
I grit my teeth, this is where all the fucking bullshit starts. Any indiscretions between our men that haven’t been solved come out here to be resolved and if they can’t, then it usually ends with one or both men lying in a pool of blood.
Francesco steps forward, his eyes on me, glaring at me. “Yeah, I want to know why the fuck he married that Irish puttana?”
I grit my teeth and look to my father, even though I want nothing more than to wrap my fingers around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. My father nods, giving me permission.
I step forward and the men behind Francesco take a couple of steps backward, not wanting to be associated with the man that’s about to lose his life. Francesco’s eyes widen as I get closer to him and he glances around and realizes that he’s alone. “What did you call my wife?” My anger is vibrating through my body.
He visibly swallows and he’s no longer able to meet my gaze.
“What did you call my wife?” I growl as I step up to him.
“Answer him, Francesco,” my father demands and I glance up just in time to see him smirking.
“Your wife is a whore, she’s an Irish whore,” he tells me as he stands up taller.
Romero shifts in my peripheral vision but makes no move to come to my aid. I don’t need him. The way I’m feeling right now, I’d tear every man in this room apart with my bare hands. “She is no whore. She is my wife.” My teeth grind together as I clench my jaw.
He fucking shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “She was part of the deal.”
I lift my hand to his neck, my fingers grip his throat and tighten around it. I relish the feel of his pulse fluttering widely beneath my grip. Within seconds his face is bright red as he struggles to breathe. I take pleasure in that too. “She is not a fucking whore,” I growl low. “And you’ll die for calling her that.”
It’s a hell of a lot harder to kill someone this way compared to shooting them, but with the rage I’m feeling, my bloodlust won’t be settled until I break his neck. A couple of minutes later, the fucker’s lifeless body is at my feet.
“Anyone else have a fucking problem with my wife?” I demand as I glance around the room and my men are shaking their heads a look of disgust on their faces as they stare at the motherfucker on the floor.
“Get the fuck out of here.” My father yells, “All of you.”
The men don’t need to be told twice, they make a hasty exit. I’m right behind them, Alessio and Romero hot on my heels.
“Dante, we’ll see you for dinner in a few days,” my father says as I reach the door. My steps don’t falter and I don’t look back, I just nod and carry on walking.
Just a few more days and that asshole is out of our lives for good.
“Bro,” Romero says carefully and I don’t want to hear it. “You fell into his fucking trap.”
“I know,” I snap. I know damn well that he fucking set that shit up. He wanted to know how I felt about my wife and I fucking showed him.
“To everyone else, you killed a man who disrespected you. But to our father, you showed him that your loyalty is now to your wife,” Romero says and shakes his head. “We’ve got to watch your back.”
I groan, great, just what I fucking need right now. “Don’t fucking tell Makenna.”
Romero chuckles, “Yeah, I’m not going to be the one to inform her that her husband may now be on a hit list. Good luck with that.”
I glare at him, “I’m not telling her either. She doesn’t need to know.”
“She’s going to kill you if you keep it from her and she finds out. She’s going to have your balls,” Alessio says finally entering the conversation.
He’s right, but I don’t tell him that.
“No one tells her anything,” I reiterate. I know her; if she finds out that my father is going to fucking kill me, she’ll off the bastard herself.
“If you say so,” Romero says as we reach my car. “I’m warning you now, when she finds out, I’m immigrating.”
“Your father is an arsehole,” Makenna growls as soon as she walks into the house.
I raise my brow, she didn’t even say hello. “What’s he done now?”
“Like you don’t know. For fuck’s sake, Dante. Why the hell are you acting as though you have no idea what I’m talking about?” She glares at me and I turn to Romero and Alessio, wondering which one of those assholes told her. “Don’t worry, your brothers didn't tell me. You should know by now, that I know everything.”