Page 84 of Angelic Vengeance

Fucking retiring.

From being a goddamn drug lord. And dumping it all onme.

That day, I becameDiablo.

That day, Matteo also became a pain in my ass.

Running the family business wasn’t the problem; him breathing down my fucking neck was. To my brother, retiring meant putting all the shitty workload on me while he just accompanied me to every meeting, left for Miami or Vegas with no notice, and broke into my penthouse like it was his house.

Before leaving my room, Matteo threw over his shoulder, “We got the DeMone meeting. Be downstairs in ten minutes, fool.”

I groaned in frustration as I made my way to the bathroom.Of course, I hadn’t forgotten about the meeting because I was thinking about a green-eyed brunette.

He was lucky he was my goddamn brother.

Low Sicilian classics came from the record player in the corner, the air was thick with tension and cigar smoke, and it felt like anyone would start shooting at any minute.

Matteo threw a look from across the table.Glad I came along now,ese? He puffed on a Montecristo Cuban, letting out a grey cloud. I would never admit it to his face, but I was glad I had backup with me. This meeting was going to shit, and there would be bodies to clean up.

The head of the Chicago Outfit smashed his hands on the marble table and raised from his seat, his chair scraping on the fancy stone tiles. “You goddamnguineas.”

As soon as the insult left his mouth, Tony moved to get up.

A single look from Gìo made him sit back down.

If you would’ve asked me, he looked rather disappointed he wouldn’t be the one to kill the man himself. They didn’t call him ‘K.O.’ Tony for nothing.

The Outfit head let out a laugh. “You really busting my balls with this. He’s still in his twenties and not even married.”

“I’ll be twenty-nine by the end of the year.” Gìo’s voice was calm. Too calm. “Andmarried.”

I exchanged a quick look with Matteo. Gìo had refused every woman his parents suggested he marry. They were either too pretty, not pretty enough, too smart, not smartenough, too skinny, too tall, too short – and the list went on. His mother almost fainted after he refused girl #40. There were only so many girls in the Italian-American Mafia.

The man walked around the table, approaching the other end, where Enzo DeMone was sitting with his two sons. “First, you stop my business with the Triad. Now, you’re making this shithead Don?” He pointed a finger – something you never did to a mobster. I mentally cringed thinking how many pieces they would cut him into. “So what? You can break the rules but we can’t?”

Instead of answering, Enzo turned to his oldest son. Gìovanni took one last drag out of his cigar before putting it out. In the split moment I blinked, Gìo pushed his chair back and stood to his full height; his hands went around the man’s throat like a vice as he lifted him in the air. The Chicago Boss’ feet dangled in the air as Gìo strangled him in front of the whole room of criminals. The tiny crushes of bones were the only sounds to break the silence.

I smirked, rubbing my thumb over my mouth. There wasn’t a better way of establishing yourself as a Don in the underworld than killing another.

Moments later, Gìo dropped the man to the floor and sat back down in his chair. The body twitched once more on the floor before stilling completely.

Gìo took another puff from his Cuban. “Anyone else got any complaints?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Congratulations on becoming Don, Gìovanni.” The ex-Underboss, now Boss, of the Chicago Mob raised and walked over to shake his hand, followed by the Camorra leaders. After the room cleared, Matteo and I went to congratulate Gìo.

“Drinks at Renato?” Tony asked after nudging the dead body with his shoe.

“Where’s Trevor? Shouldn’t he have been here?” Matteo asked as we stepped over the corpse and headed towards the exit of the restaurant’s basement.

“Busy.”

“With what?”

Tony paused before answering. “No idea.”

I bet I could guess exactly whose apartment he’d rather be at on a Saturday morning.

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