Page 192 of Inside the Sun

Nothing will ever wash that off.

Finally, the fucker says, "They’d need solid evidence. Like you said. And first, they’ll have to question the mercs and the soldiers. So I figure by the time they sort that out and get a court order, we’ll have about a week. That’s enough to clean house."

Yeah, asshole. Theyalreadyhave hard evidence. No need to wait on interrogations.

But I just sigh and shake my head slightly. I’m not pushing. I said what I needed to say so he can’t claim later that I didn’t warn him. So he doesn’t cut me out of his will.

I glance at Rocco, who’s still watching Anzo, his eyes narrowed. Is that a smirk on his lips?

It’s stupid, but I like to play this little game in my head: Who hates Anzo the most?

Me?

Rocco?

Mauro?

Eliano?

Ennio?

Hmm, only he seems to have any real loyalty to Anzo, since my uncle saved him from his sick family. But I wouldn’t bet on that loyalty. That fucker’s cold. Soulless. Whatever he went through made him robotic. If the feds came knocking, I wouldn’t count on his non-existing conscience keeping him from stabbing Anzo in the back.

Truth is, Anzo raised a wholenest of viperson his own damn chest.

And we’re biting.

Rocco’s smug grin deepens. I want to smile too. Hell, I want to laugh out loud. But I don’t, not outwardly. Inside? I’m howling.

Watching Anzo fall apart—it’s like a long, slow orgasm. The gift that keeps on giving.

"I don’t have the energy to deal with them today," Anzo mutters. "I’ll handle it tomorrow. Got other things to wrap up first."

He turns and walks out fast.

Domenico, who’s been trying to make himself invisible the whole time, finally speaks up.

"I saw the news. Word is, the Lowens’ old man flipped out when he found out about the hit…"

"Roan Lowen? That guy must be well into his eighties," Rocco mumbles.

"Yeah, he’s retired, chillin’ in his mansion, but he already gave a statement. Sounds like he didn’t take kindly to someone going after his youngest son. And a man like that? He’s got options. Anzo might’ve picked the wrong family to fight with."

"Shut the fuck up, Domenico," Rocco says. Gotta keep up appearances, of course.

"You guys screwed up just as bad. If you hadn’t sent that second team, only our guys would’ve gotten picked up. Now the mercs are gonna rat us out like a snitch on payday."

I agree. But I keep quiet. Like I said… I’m enjoying the chaos.

To keep up my own act, I say, "Rocco, maybe it’s time you left the compound. Better not be here when shit goes sideways."

Yes, the little game calledlet’s pretend we’re a united mafia family and care about each othercontinues for the eyes that need to see it.

"I’m not missing the fun Anzo’s got planned downstairs," Rocco grins. "Might finally get a taste of Sun and Summer’s asses. A few of the other guys got dibs too. Gonna be one hell of a party."

I stare at him, revulsion rising in my chest. But I can’t say a word.

Can’t let even the tiniest crack show. So I shrug. Like always, like I don’t give a shit. Even though I do. Deeply.

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