Page 116 of Brutal Heir
And what about Maeve? “Did you find anything about a Maeve Quinlan?”
His dark brows furrow as he regards me, and I can practically see the gears spinning in his mind as he sorts through the intel Matteo unearthed.
“She’s dead.”
“What?” I croak, the sound a half cry, half gasp. My lungs suddenly feel too tight, my ribs closing in around them. “It can’t be. She’s Conall’s sister…”
He shrugs, his scowl softening. “I don’t know any details about how it happened, but it was in the dossier Matteo provided.”
I nod numbly. If she’s truly dead, it’s because of me. She helped me escape and Conall must have found out somehow and had her killed. Feck, his own sister. That strangling guilt tears into me, clawing at my insides.God, Maeve… I’m so sorry.
Alessandro heaves out a breath, as if the very act of breathing is suddenly painful. “I have to tell Jimmy to call off the assault on La Spada Nera. Innocent—well, men innocent of this anyway, could be dying because of my command. I issued their death sentences in a blind frenzy to protect you. I was so sure…” His words fall away, and another wave of guilt eats at my core. “I have to get to the Velvet Vault. Jimmy has Jace Morello. He’s been questioning him since yesterday.”
“Torturing, don’t you mean?”
His lips thin out, jaw clenching. “I did it for you,” he growls, throwing his hands up.
And he would have gone to finish the job yesterday if he hadn’t found out the truth about Brigid.
Feckin’ hell, this is such a mess. “I’m going with you.”
“I’d argue but I know you’re more stubborn than?—”
“You on a bad day?” I cut him off.
A rueful smile pulls at the corner of his lip, but he chases it away with a scowl. “Exactly. Now let’s go before another innocent man dies because of me.”
It’s kind of him to say, to attempt to shoulder some of the burden, but we both know the truth. If Jace Morello dies by torture, his blood is onmyhands.
The stench of blood hits me before the door even swings open.
It clings to the moist air like rot, thick and metallic, coating the back of my throat. Alessandro’s hand tightens around mine as we step into the dimly lit basement of the Velvet Vault, the sound of a muffled groan echoing off the concrete walls.
Jimmy stands with his sleeves rolled up, forearms splattered red. He has a pair of bloodied pliers in one hand and a look of cold indifference on his face. Jace Morello is slumped in a metal chair bolted to the floor, wrists zip-tied behind his back, one eye swollen shut, and blood smeared down his cheek like war paint.
He looks barely conscious.
“What the fuck is this?” Alessandro’s voice booms through the room, sharp and commanding.
Jimmy doesn’t flinch. “Interrogation. Like you ordered.”
“I told you to bring him in, not rip his goddamn teeth out.” He shoves past me, storming toward the two men, radiating fury and authority. “Drop the fucking tools, Jimmy.”
With a sigh that borders on bored, Jimmy obliges, setting the pliers down on the tray beside him with a soft clink. “Your call, boss.”
Alessandro crouches in front of Jace, eyes narrowing as he studies him. “You awake, Morello?”
Jace coughs, something wet and ragged, then lifts his head with effort. “Barely,” he rasps. “But enough to know this is bullshit.”
“Careful,” Alessandro growls. “You’re already on thin ice.”
“I didn’t shoot at you.” Jace spits, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “Like I’ve been telling your guy since yesterday. I swear to God. I wouldn’t do that. I’m reckless, not suicidal.”
Alessandro says nothing, just watches him. Silent. Assessing.
“I told Sienna to skim,” Jace admits, shoulders sagging. “The capo, Vincenzo Carbone, he wanted schedules, names, movements. We needed leverage, some intel on the Geminis, nothing more. It was never supposed to get violent.”
“Then what the fuck do you call what happened to Amber?”
