Page 68 of Vicious Behaviors
“I have some unpleasant news,” my father begins, calm and cool as ever. “It’s come to my attention that the FBI is currently building a case against us.”
“Tell him the truth, Vince,” Gio cuts in, his gaze still fixed on me. “It’s not us they’re building a case against. They’ve got nothing on the syndicate and they never will. I make damn sure of that. No. They’re building a case against you, Marcello. Just you, son.”
When I don’t so much as flinch, Vincent leans forward, eyes locked with mine. “But this isn’t news to you, is it?”
When I say nothing to the contrary, Gio fucking loses it.
“Well, fuck, Marcello! How about a little heads-up, huh?” he groans, dragging his fingers through his brown hair in frustration.
“How long?” Dom asks, stepping forward.
“A month,” I reply casually.
“A month?! Jesus fuck! Again, information we should’ve been privy to,” Gio snaps. He starts pacing my father’s office, onehand on his hip, the other pressed to his forehead. “A month is a hell of a long time. Who knows what the Feds have by now?”
“I know what they have. Absolutely nothing.”
“Sorry, kid, if I’m not as zen as you are about having the Feds on your ass,” Gio grumbles. “Fuck. How did you find out about this before us anyway?”
“An undercover agent started sniffing around,” I explain, purposely giving a vague explanation.
“What do they want to pin on you?” Dom interjects, going to the crux of the matter.
“Father McDonagh’s sudden disappearance,” I reply emotionless. “More importantly, his murder.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! They want to pin that asshole’s death on you?! You’ll never see the light of day if they catch you.”
Gio continues to spiral, wearing down the soles of his Italian loafers, while Vincent doesn’t look the least bit rattled. Instead, he leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving mine.
“Easy, Gio. Marcello doesn’t look worried,” he says at last. “So neither should we.” The pride in his voice grips something deep in my chest.
Dom’s shoulders ease at my father’s words, but Gio just stares at him as if he’d gone insane. His eyes bounce between me and my father before he finally throws his hands up in disbelief.
“Well, I’m worried!” he exclaims. “I’m fucking worried. This isn’t a joke, Vince. This is our son’s future we’re talking about. His whole life! And I, for one, am not looking forward to seeing him waste it behind iron bars.”
“That won’t happen,” my father says flatly. “Will it, Marcello?”
“No, sir.”
“Because you’ve got this handled.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And whoever this agent is,” he continues, “you’ll handle him. Permanently. Quietly.”
My spine goes rigid. He doesn’t have to give me any more specifics for me to know what he means by that. He wants me to kill Izzie. Make the problem disappear. Make it look like an unfortunate accident. However, I can’t do that. Not yet, anyway.
Thankfully, Vincent takes my silence for obedience, making Gio the only one unhappy with this exchange.
“Hubris will be the death of you two. I swear to fucking God,” Gio mutters, shaking his head.
My father doesn’t respond, making Gio’s curse roll right off his shoulders.
I, on the other hand, take his warning to heart.
Maybe Gio’s right. Maybe our arrogance will be our undoing.
Will bemyundoing.
