“Don’t resent me for getting out. You could’ve done the same a hundred times over.”
He laughs with derision. “Ignorance is bliss, brother. You have no idea what our lives are like.”
“Spare me the multimillion-dollar sob story. I’m not here to reminisce. Either bring him out here or tell your dogs to stand down so we can go inside.”
“Do you really want to make that mistake?” He steps closer, getting in my face, the shuffle of feet closing in behind me, Salvatore’s guards following suit. “Remy may have been driven by emotion if he spoke of killing her, but our father will be entirely collected when he gives the order for her death. You’re shortening her already precarious lifespan.”
“I’ll shorten yours if you don’t get out of my way.”
We stare each other down, neither one of us budging until the front door opens, the slight creak of a well-worn hinge dragging my attention to Adena paused in the entry.
“Dante?” She scrutinizes me with a cautious approach. “Is that really my boy?”
Salvatore steps back, his face bitter as she breaks into a run.
Fuck.
I brace for impact as she descends the stairs and throws her arms wide, barreling into me for a hug that snaps my muscles rigid.
I don’t remove my hands from my pockets. Don’t reciprocate.
Guilt is a punishing motherfucker as I imagine Layla’s thoughts as her enemy embraces me like the long-lost child I am.
“My son.” Adena’s face snuggles into my neck, the affection pathetic. “I’ve missed you more than you could imagine. I always knew you’d come back.”
“I haven’t.” I retreat, breaking the connection. “Once I speak to your husband, I’m gone.”
She blinks, her face falling as Salvatore comes to stand at her side. “Why? What is this about?”
“Business,” my brother answers. “It’s not a reunion.”
Another body enters the doorway, the feminine greeting of, “Hi, brother,” brushing my ears before I turn my attention to Abri.
She’s in perfect costume, accentuated makeup, figure-hugging clothes, immaculately styled hair. It’s the smile curving her lips that places a fault in the facade, the jubilation not matching the sadness she can’t hide in her eyes.
“Abri,” I grate.
I remember her as the heart and happiness of this family when I was growing up. Too pure and sweet to survive Emmanuel. Too young and innocent to be taken with me when I left.
I was wrong, though. From what I’ve heard, she’s adapted to the changing environment, transforming into a snake who seduces wealthy married men only to blackmail them with their transgressions.
“What’s going on?” She glides her attention over De Marco and his men, then focuses on the car before stiffening. “What is she doing here?”
“We’re here to see Emmanuel. Who’s going to—” My words fall short as the front gates rattle open behind me.
I glance over my shoulder, watching the heavy metal move as Bishop disobeys instruction and climbs from the car, his large frame moving to stand in front of Layla’s window, protecting her from the view of the approaching Maserati.
“Good,” Salvatore murmurs. “Remy’s here to join the fun.”
The vehicle accelerates, kicking up pebbles and dust to abruptly skid to a stop next to the Lincoln. In seconds, my youngest brother is shoving from the sports car, the engine still purring as he storms toward Layla’s door.
“You brought that bitch here?” he accuses. “Didn’t I warn you?”
“Back off.” Bishop braces for attack, arms tense, knuckles locked.
De Marco does the same, closing in at his side.
I remain in place, my demons screaming for action even though I know it would be a sign of weakness. “I’ll kill you myself, Remy. You know I will.”
They need to see I’m in control. That I’m not mindless in my need to protect her, even though that’s far from the truth.
I’d slaughter for her.
And I’d do it too damn easily.
Remy stops a few feet in front of Bishop. “Get her out of here.”
“I will as soon as I see Emmanuel. Until then, keep your thoughts about her to yourself or risk becoming a folktale.”
His eyes cut to mine. “She won’t make it out of here alive.”
The hair at my nape prickles. “You kill her, I kill you, Salvo kills me, Bishop kills him. The list goes on until a generation is slaughtered. Not to mention the aftermath from Lorenzo if anyone survives. Is that what you want?” I glare. “Because I didn’t come here for violence.”
Nobody answers.
“I will kill for her.” I meet everyone’s gaze in turn—Salvo, Remy, Abri, Adena, then their guards. “Without pause or guilt. So if anyone has that on their mind, start preparing to meet your maker.”
“You’re such a piece of shit,” Remy mutters. “Lorenzo really did a number on you.”
“And look what your father did to you. Clearly, you’re not the pinnacle of virtue.”
“He’s your father, too,” Adena corrects.
“No.” I look at her in earnest. “Both of you gave up parental rights when you had Grace killed.”
“What?” Abri stiffens, her mask of perfection slipping as her lips part in shock. “Is that true? Is that why he left?”
“No. He’s stirring up lies from the past.” Adena crosses her arms over her chest, every wrinkle on her tired face growing deeper as she scowls at me. “Why are you being like this? You’ve become just like her family.” She turns her daggered stare toward Layla in the back seat. “Breaking the peace after years of silence.”
“Peace?” I smirk. “You abduct a child of the Portland underworld and expect peace?”
“Two children,” Abri murmurs. “There were two.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Bishop mutters.
I shake my head, scowling at Salvatore. How the hell could he let that happen?
“Don’t judge me.” His jaw ticks. “You don’t know me.”
“Evidently… and murder?” I raise a brow. “And still, you expected there to be peace?”
“Nobody else was meant to be there,” he growls. “Everything ran smoothly until that asshole spooked us.”
“Everything ran smoothly?” Abri’s hand tentatively climbs to her throat. “I disagree.”
Salvo ignores her. Everyone does as silence falls, the hum of the Maserati the only sound.
I knew they never had the picture-perfect relationship they projected on social media. The overheard conversations at Perfezione are proof of that. But seeing them like this shows the cuts run deeper.
None of them are proud of their lives. They’re miserable here.
Yet they still don’t leave.
“I’m not here to recap your mistakes.” I pull my hands from my pockets, raising my palms to show I’m not here to fight. “I only came to make sure Emmanuel doesn’t repeat them in the future. So are you escorting me inside or am I entering by force?”
Remy sneers. Their guards grip the handle of their holstered weapons.