Page 64 of Wrathful King
“Considering it involves your fucking dick-wad father,” Raven spat. “Angelo Leone deserved what he got.”
Everyone tensed as silence descended on the room, promising nothing good. I pulled Reina tighter to my chest, and for the first time since she was brought home, she nuzzled closer as if she knew—even in her unconscious state—that she’d need protection.
“The girls and I helped Reina,” Isla finally announced.
One heartbeat. “Helped her with what?” Marchetti’s voice was cautious. Low.
“We helped her finish off Angelo Leone.”
“Finish him how?” Romero asked, dread filling his voice.
“We killed him,” Raven said, almost sounding proud. “He attacked Reina, so we all killed him and sliced him up.”
The ticking of the clock above Reina’s bed was the only sound to be heard.
“You all did it?” Marchetti asked.
I suspected they were lying. If I had to guess, Reina killed Angelo in self-defense, and the girls helped her after the fact. Not that I would correct them. If Marchetti wanted to put Reina on fucking trial, he’d have to do the same with his wife.
And we all knew he would never allow that.
“We had to chop him up,” Athena muttered, her voice riddled with guilt. “We couldn’t take him out of the apartment undetected.”
“So you… what? Cut him into pieces?” Marchetti stated. “Because that makes a lot of sense.”
“It made sense back then.” Isla took her husband’s hand. “We were scared. He beat the shit out of her. Do you think we wanted to be slicing up a body?”
Then, as if to prove her point, she gagged. Dramatically.
“Yeah, there was a lot of puking.” Athena offered a sheepish smile.
“I guess if we’d known you or Manuel then, we could have just called you.” Raven blinked her eyes innocently.
“Definitely Manuel,” Athena murmured, offering Marchetti a dazzling smile. “I bet he would have cracked jokes while chopping up the body. Not us, nuh-uh. We had to fight over whose turn it was to puke in the toilet.”
“This is some fucked-up shit,” Dante finally said.
“That’s rich coming from akiller,” Raven muttered, glaring at my brother.
“And an unhinged mobster who went after his brother’s ex-girlfriend,” Isla grumbled. “After promising Phoenix… what was it, girls?” She looked around, feigning cluelessness. “Oh yeah, you vowed there’s nobody else. Not for me, you said.” She even deepened her voice. “Fucker.”
My brows pinched and so did Dante’s.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dante asked.
Isla scoffed. “Whatever, dude. I don’t have time for your bullshit.” Dante’s questioning look landed on me, and I shrugged. I didn’t have time for any of theirbullshit.
“Does this change your position, Marchetti?” Romero said as he took a seat, his breathing labored.
All our eyes were on the head of the Marchetti family. His answer didn’t matter to me, because as far as I was concerned, the issue was closed. I wanted them all out, and judging by Marchetti’s body language, he’d prefer to get the fuck out too.
“I don’t like to be tricked,” he remarked dryly.
Isla offered him a private smile. “Neither do I, yet here I am.”
Then he seemed to relent, pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple.
“I’d hate to be a rude host, but—”
