I shrugged. “I don’t waste my time on women. Either a girl’s an easy lay or I don’t bother.”
Gemma 15, Savio 19
My head was throbbing and my vision kept turning black, but I fought against unconsciousness. I needed to be ready to fight. Fabiano slanted me a searching look. I gave a small nod even though it sent a stab through my brain. I could tell Fabiano was trying to loosen the cord binding his arms to his back.
I glanced toward the door when Remo and Nino walked in, led into the room by the traitors my mother had hired to do her dirty work.
Mother stepped up to Kiara and Alessio, Nino’s wife and adopted baby boy, threatening them with a lighter. I hadn’t been able to stop her from dousing them with gasoline earlier when several assholes had attacked me at once. “You are going to put down all of your weapons, or they’ll both burn.”
“We took their weapons,” Carmine said. If I got the chance, I’d shove my knife into his traitorous throat.
“No, no, you didn’t. I know Benedetto’s sons,” Mother said with a smile that raised the little hairs at the back of my head. It was difficult to believe that his madwoman was our own flesh and blood, except for the horrid reminder of her having the same gray eyes as Nino.
“We are your sons too,” I said, because she seemed to forget that little fact. Maybe we were fucked up, but a huge part of why was because of her. Reaching up, I lightly touched the side of my head. My fingers came away red. Fuck. Those assholes had hit me good.
Mother didn’t even look at me. She had only eyes for Remo and Nino. “A gunshot could set Kiara and her boy on fire too. A little spark and everything goes up in flames, do you really want to risk it? Hear their agonized screams?”
Carmine took the guns from my brothers, and for the first time, a flicker of worry filled me. I’d trusted in Remo and Nino finding a solution to this mess. They always did. They had ripped Las Vegas from the hands of unworthy men. They had fought for our birthright, for our territory, for our legacy when nobody had believed in the name Falcone. For a while I’d been sure they were invincible. Many Camorrista still did. But there was one thing that had the power to destroy them and she stood in the middle of the room like a martyr.
“What did you promise them to do your bidding?” Nino asked.
Mother smiled. “Money. Power. Revenge.”
“Power,” Remo scoffed. “Do you really think my men will follow either of you? They’ll laugh into your pitiful faces and then smash them in. And even if you manage to seize power by some stroke of luck, you won’t have it for long. Luca will wipe the floor with assholes like you and just claim the Camorra for himself.”
“We’ll see,” Carmine said.
“Help him to his feet,” Mother said, nodding at me but still not meeting my eyes. This was about her and Remo mainly. We all knew it. Remo was our father’s son more than each of us. Mother had been too weak to kill our father, the man who’d tormented her, and so she tried to kill the next best thing: his sons.
One of the traitors grabbed my arm and tried to drag me to my feet. I headbutted him despite the following agony and was rewarded by the satisfying sound of his breaking nose. “Go fuck yourself, motherfucker.” I grinned when the bloody asshole pointed his gun at me.
Our mother waved the lighter. “I told you. They’ll burn.”
I stood. I didn’t want to be responsible for Kiara’s and Alessio’s death. Pain shot through my ankle when I put my weight on it. I must have twisted it at some point.
“Where’s Adamo?” Mother asked, flicking the lighter open, causing Kiara to flinch. Mother smiled manically.
“He disappeared after you tricked him into helping you,” Nino said.
Adamo could be such a fucking fool. I’d told him several times that he should stay away from our mother, but he wouldn’t listen. He had to believe in the good in people. Maybe now he’d finally understand that most people were assholes. Remo and Nino always justified his stupidity because he was young, but when I’d been sixteen, I hadn’t been this fucking naïve.