Page 88 of Enzo
“Like I said, it was your late mother who came up with the idea.”
I hardened my voice. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Atticus’s expression remained unchanged. “Did you know that before your mother married your father, her family’s power rivaled that of the Marchettis?”
“So?”
“Well, she didn’t like how Enrico took it over without even consulting her.”
I shrugged. “You’re getting sidetracked, Atticus. I want a list of names and organizations working with you.”
“You mean your mama didn’t leave you the list in her will?” The sarcasm in his tone didn’t escape me. “That’s right, she gifted her lover that information.”
I flashed him a cold smile. “Great, then you agree the list is rightfully mine. Hand it over.”
His gaze flickered to the bar, and I guessed his men were ready to make a move.
“The people on it won’t trust you.”
“I don’t care.” I needed the list to eliminate them and roll out changes.
He smirked, then said, “Do you know why your mother turned into a psychotic…”
He trailed off, so I finished the thought for him: “Bitch?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Greed. Mental illness. Power play. Who the fuck knows or cares?”
“It’s your father’s fault.”
My gaze narrowed. “Let’s say I believe you, which I don’t, that doesn’t excuse her behavior.”
“What behavior?” He sneered, but I didn’t comment. Not many people knew that my mother had lived beyond the date on her death certificate, or that she’d tried to kill her own sons. “Your mom wanted back her claim. Even her fling with Sofia Volkov—” He broke off, catching my surprised expression. “You didn’t know.”
It made no sense denying it.
“No, and honestly, I don’t give a shit.” I was done caring about the bitch. “I want the list and my share of the organization.”
“You assume there’s an organization.”
I scoffed. “Organs of the Night.” It was his turn to be surprised. I snickered. “What? You thought I wouldn’t find out?Honestly, it was too easy. And for the record, the name screams of a really bad Broadway musical.”
He laughed humorlessly as he stood up and gave a barely noticeable nod.
The bastard wouldn’t dare. Would he?
The screams were my answer.
I lunged across the table and yanked him by his shirt, slamming him down face-first onto the filthy surface.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Amazed that I hadn’t been so much as grazed, I glanced around. Three men slumped dead on the restaurant floor. By the looks of it, they had come with Atticus.
Panic spread all around and that was when I saw it. The tip of a rifle resting on the rail of the balcony and my brother’s grin as he waved, then gave me a thumbs-up.
Not wasting time on reprimanding him for going against my orders, I nodded. I couldn’t deny I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for him.
