Page 96 of Tormented Diamonds
I give Cathalina’s father one last look and smile. “Ciò che il sangue lega, solo la morte spezza.”
What blood binds only death breaks.
He’s about to find out how true that is.
Pushing off the table, I do something that goes against everything I know. I turn my back to four armed men. Anton stands, his expression blank, and follows me as I walk toward the exit where Sergio stands waiting to return our guns. Once our weapons are holstered, he quickly ushers us out, the door closing to the sound of Carmine’s frantic pleas.
As we descend the stairs, one thing keeps repeating in my head, an unavoidable truth that men like Carmine Damiano and my father never understood.
Sin is an irreversible stain on the soul….
One that sooner, or later, always finds its way to the surface.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
GIANNI
Montclair, New Jersey
The ride back to Montclair is silent. I suppose there’s not much conversation to be had once the dust settles. At least Anton has stopped asking me about the events leading up to the warehouse fire. I’ll tell him, eventually, once I’ve processed them myself. For now, I just want to exist with my wife without the threat of death looming over our heads.
An hour later, I pull into my underboss’s driveway. Instead of getting out and putting an end to this strained awkwardness, he sits there, drumming his fingers on his thighs like a masochistic asshole.
“So, that was an interesting meeting,” he says, finally.
“That’s an understatement.” And water issort ofwet. I don’t know what kind of banter he’s going for here, but it feels as natural as shaving with a machete. “Any update on the women from the warehouse?”
He and Owen whisked them off to our safe houses in Newark,and Sera made them her life’s work. I was against my sister getting involved, but Becca flexed her Marchesi arm and issued an ultimatum that it was Sera or her, and I chose the lesser of the two evils. I haven’t mentioned them since; not because I don’t care, but because I can’t stop picturing Becca as one of them, and it awakens a rage I’m trying not to unleash.
But Becca asked about them this morning, and I’m not ready to allow that bridge.
“They’re as stable as can be expected,” he says solemnly. “Physically, they’re healing, but the mental damage … that’ll take time. Only half speak English, so Taz is searching for someone trustworthy to translate Czech and Ukrainian.”
I’m not surprised Taz is back to work. Becca and I both tried to get him to take at least a week off, but the stubborn asshole refused. I can’t blame him. His pride took a hit along with his skull when Flynn knocked him out with a brick.
He’s lucky it wasn’t a bullet.
He doesn’t agree.
Anton lets out a low whistle. “Yep. Definitely a crazy few days.”
I stare at him across the console. “Do you have something you want to say, Anton? Because if this is an attempt at small talk, you’re failing miserably.”
“I just…” He shoves his hand through his gray hair and tugs at strands he doesn’t have the luxury of losing. “A lot has happened in the last month, and I just wanted you to know that … that…”
“That’s not any better.”
He drops his hand in his lap and faces me with a sigh. “Thank you, Gianni.”
“For what?”
“For trusting in me. For believing me. You had every right not to listen to a word I said atCucciola’s, but you took a chanceon a man who was loyal to your father for damn near thirty years.”
I don’t know what to say. That’s some deep shit, way too deep for my liking. I’ve only recently learned Ihaveemotions, much less know what the hell to do with them. I’m nowhere near ready for whatever this is. Still, without Anton, Becca and I would probably be dead, so I offer the only thing I can for now. “Yeah, well, back at ya.”
Apparently, that’s enough.
“So, what now?”
