“Uh-huh. You’re not going to cut me out.” She flings off the covers and crawls out of bed, her naked body doing nothing to help my cock settle down. “I’m in charge of this operation. Those were the terms.”
 
 “I’m changing the terms,” I inform her.
 
 “I was able to get the mayor’s phone once; I know I can get it again,” she argues.
 
 “A phone that’s at the bottom of the river?” I point out.
 
 “If you lost your phone, you’d have another in your hands in minutes. Same thing with the mayor. Plus, wouldn’t all of his stuff be backed up on a cloud or something?”
 
 Valid point, but I shake my head. “The cost is too high.”
 
 “What’s another fifty grand to you?” Remi counters.
 
 “I’m talking about your fucking life, and how you almost lost it!” I thunder.
 
 She crosses the room, standing toe to toe with me. “You were arrested, and I’m guessing the heat’s still on you.”
 
 Exercising my Fifth Amendment right, I remain silent.
 
 “And you need whatever blackmail leverage is on that phone.”
 
 My hand wraps around her throat, and I pull her close to where we’re sharing the same breath. “Put some clothes on so I don’t have to kill every man in this house.”
 
 I spin on my heel, stalking out.
 
 Remi’s right, and I hate that she’s right. I could go to the mayor with my tail between my legs, but the man would own me, and I’m not too keen on being owned. The little pickpocket’s doing a bang-up job of that all by herself.
 
 Joining Nic in the study, I pour myself an espresso from the carafe before taking a seat across from him. After a much needed sip, I say, “Is it done?”
 
 “Yes, boss, the hit’s been called in. It doesn’t sit right, though.” He rubs the back of his neck.
 
 “Not your decision to make,” I say dismissively.
 
 “Aunt Stella would not be happy, God rest her soul.” He makes a sign of the cross before handing me an envelope of this week’s kickups.
 
 “Let me worry about my mama.” I count out the money before pocketing the envelope.
 
 “Guarantee I’m not the only one who thinks this,” he warns. “The capos aren’t going to take the news well.”
 
 “I don’t give a shit how they take the news. I’m the boss of this family until I say otherwise!” Only when the words are out do I realize whose words I’m parroting.
 
 Who am I?
 
 Vitto Calvani, whether I like it or not.
 
 For the record, I don’t.
 
 Remi
 
 I go in search of Angelo, but run into Maks first. “This way,” he tells me, and I follow him outside to the back patio.
 
 Looking around, I don’t see his boss.
 
 Oh, God, the mere sight of the pool has me breaking out into cold sweats. “Where is Angelo?”
 
 “Inside.”
 
 “Then why did you tell me to come outside?” I say, fear licking up my spine.