answer at first, letting it go to voice mail. But when I call again, he finally picks up.
“Where are you?”
“Sorry, Angelo,” he says, sounding jittery again. “I’ve just got a couple of errands to run.”
“What fucking errands?” I snap, unable to hide my annoyance. “The business is fucking crumbling and you’ve got to take care of your goddamn laundry? What’s more important than this?”
“I’m sorry,” Levi whines, not at all like the man I grew up with. He sounds pathetic. “I’ll come find as soon as I can.”
I lean against the side of the hospital. “Levi, mio fratello, if there’s something wrong, you know you can tell me, don’t you?”
He tries to laugh it off. “Nothing’s wrong, Angelo—”
“You’ve been acting strange for weeks now,” I interrupt. “I have known you since before we could walk, and you are going to tell me I can’t tell when you’re acting fucking weird. Don’t play games with me.”
“Angelo, I …” He pauses, and then sighs. “I have to go. We’ll talk later.”
He hangs up before I can say anything. I stare at the phone for a few moments in disbelief. Levi has never behaved like this before. I resolve to get some answers from him the next time I see him. For now, it’s time to leave.
I don’t belong here right now.
About an hour later, I’m working out like a devil in my gym, pumping weights until the floor is slick with my sweat. I think about calling Dani, then decide to think about anything but that.
After a shower, Richard knocks on my bedroom door lightly. “Sir,” my butler says, “Mr. Mancini is here to see you.”
“Levi?” I ask in surprise. And then, louder, “Tell him to make himself comfortable, Richard. I’ll be out soon.”
“Yes, sir,” he says briskly, and then walks away.
I get dressed in my suit and then walk out into the main living room. It’s empty. “Where is Levi?” I ask.
Richard reappears from the kitchen. “Mr. Mancini decided to adjourn to the veranda, sir.”
I frown. Levi hates the outdoors.
Brooding, I pivot and push through the French doors, going out to join Levi on the balcony. He’s leaning against the railing, sipping a whiskey as the sun sets over the city. His breath fogs on the cold air.
“Wouldn’t you rather sit inside?” I ask, walking up beside him.
He glances at me, eyes red with alcohol. He downs his glass and slams it on the table, and then turns back to the railing. “Here’s good,” he mumbles.
“Is it your mother?” I ask quietly, glancing at my old friend.
“Is what my mother?”
In Italian, I say, “Stop messing with me, brother. You want to tell me something. I can tell. Levi …” I pause. I wonder if it’s possible I’m right. If my suspicions are on point. I don’t want them to be, because then I’ll have to punish my oldest friend.
I’ll have to kill him.
“Levi, was it you who poisoned that shipment?”
He turns away, pouring himself another whiskey with the bottle he took from the bar. “It’s more complicated than that,” he says finally.
Rage flares through me as I grab his shoulder and flip him around, forcing him to face me. “More complicated?” I snarl. “What are you talking about? Was it you, or not?”
He shrugs my hand away, stepping back. I can hardly believe it when I see it: tears glistening in his eyes. He wipes at his cheek. “I’m sorry, Angelo,” he whispers. “They got to my mother. You know what they’re like, those crazy fucking Albanians. They said they’d kill her. They kidnapped her to let me know they were serious. They’re—shit, shit.”
I turn just in time to see Dujar swaggering through my apartment, bordered on both sides by six or so Albanians. One of them has a gun to Richard’s head. My butler’s face is deathly pale. Even if Richard knows, in a vague way, what my business is, he never expected something like this. He never deserved it, either. I can tell how terrified he is.
“You told them where I live,” I say in disbelief to Levi. “And the code to the elevator, I’m guessing?”
He just bows his head.
I don’t have my gun on me, so there’s nothing I can do except back away to the balcony railing. I grab the whiskey bottle by the neck, meaning to use it as a weapon.
Dujar looks immensely pleased with himself as he steps onto the balcony, shivering melodramatically. “Come, Angelo,” he says. “Let’s talk inside like civilized people. It’s freezing