his, I frown.
“You’d want this knowing what will happen to Father Luke?”
“I should rephrase. Father Luke will be looked out for. We want peace in Vita, and even I know this will get messier before that can happen.”
I can’t believe it, but I’m already forming plans to keep Father Luke safe, which means I’m getting married on my eighteenth birthday—for love.
Chapter Seven
Raphael
Cristian is first to arrive to the meeting, followed closely by Frankie and Carlo—my henchmen, so to speak.
“No Leo yet?” Cristian huffs, pulling out a chair around the circular table I’m seated at.
Snorting, I wave him off dismissively and reach for my smokes. Lighting one up, I inhale deeply, wondering why I got stuck with the most selfish, laziest brother in all of history.
“Do you want me to go find him?” Frankie asks, still standing by the door. Before I can respond, my brother stumbles in, looking half asleep, his hair and clothes a dishevelled mess.
Frankie relaxes into his seat before Leo bumps into his chair, laughing at his own clumsiness. No one else in the room finds it funny, and I’m growing tired of his recklessness. He reeks of alcohol and sex. I’m not amused.
My father used to worry I had too much heart to make the decisions needed to carry on the family’s ways, but he knew I was a better choice than my brother. He’s never been one to conform to anything, other than who he wants to be and what he wants to do. I used to be jealous of him, but now all I feel is disgust.
“Explain why we’re here, brother. I have a fine piece of ass waiting on me.”
Biting my tongue, I push on, when all I really want to do is slam his face into the table.
“Unless you’ve been at the bottom of a liquor bottle and face down in ass, you would’ve heard word about the Camarco’s laying down their weapons and vowing to end their violence at the dinner last night.”
“We’ve heard,” Cristian murmurs, raising his brow in Leo’s direction. “We just hoped it was bullshit.”
“I assure you, it’s not. Although, I don’t think it’s to be believed.”
“She’s backing our asses into a corner, then.”
Leo chuckles. “I’d say she’s bent us over and dry fucked us in the ass.”
Narrowing my eyes, Cristian interjects before I can open my mouth.
“I wouldn’t say that at all. And besides, what do you care? You haven’t fought a single day for this family. You only show up to keep Raphe appeased so he doesn’t cut you off and kick you out.”
Not this again. Inhaling one last, long draw on my cigarette, I exhale heavily and stub it out in the astray.
“Fuck you. Why do I need to fight when we have men willing to do it for us? Take these two assholes.” He points to Frankie and Carlo. “They’ve worked for us for years, and they’ll die for us if needed. So tell me, why would I do anything but enjoy my status?”
“Your status? Everyone thinks you’re a useless, no good drunken whore. Even the whores complain on their way out about how unnecessary you are in bed, that they can do a better job themselves.”
I slam my hand down on the table and bark, “Enough!”
We don’t have time to argue amongst ourselves over petty quarrels.
“Regardless of their move last night, we have a common goal for Alexander. We both want him dead. Our priority has changed somewhat, and we now need to plan for the fallout. Jamila is making moves to become the beloved widow, which will make the people feel sorry for her.”
Leo reaches for my smokes and lights one up. “Fuck the people. Bomb the mayor’s mansion, the Camarco estate, and be done with the lot of them.”
His lack of zest for family duty astounds me, always seeking the simplest and laziest routes. Planting bombs brings too much attention to us. Attention that could lead to authorities being brought in from outside of the city.
“As fucked up as our city is, the people still need security. Having the mayor between the two families gives them that,” Cristian counters. “Regardless of taking Jamila out, the people need an establishment away from us.”
“We could set it up,” Frankie offers, and I squeeze the lighter in my hand.
“As far as the city thinks, the Camarco’s are about peace now, which means any bloodshed will be directed at us. And with Alexander’s ring on Jamila’s finger, they’ll both come at us.”
“What do you propose,