Page 48 of Flawed

"I said to get inside. When I give you orders, you follow them, just like if your father would order you. Now get your asses inside," Angelo replies.

The O'Connors glare more daggers at me but obey.

Angelo motions for me to come forward.

I step in front of him.

He declares, "Don't ever pull your gun on them again."

"So I'm supposed to let them pull theirs on me?" I ask.

"You heard me," he warns.

"Then they better not pull a gun on me, because the next time they do, they're leaving in a body bag," I claim.

Angelo's face darkens. He grabs my shirt. "Are you getting too far in?"

I snort. "Don't insult me."

His cold eyes pin mine. "Do I need to remind you who's in charge?"

I clench my jaw.

"Answer me!" he seethes.

"No, I didn't forget, boss," I state.

He adds, "We can't afford for you to start making bad decisions. Calm down before you come inside. But don't you dare step foot in my house until you've got yourself under control and this attitude is gone. Understand me?"

I sniff hard, not speaking.

He releases me then goes inside.

I pull out a joint and smoke it, barely feeling the effects. When I feel confident enough to handle myself, I go inside to Angelo's office.

Brody and Aidan sit on the couches. They sulk with their arms crossed. Angelo's lecturing them but stops when I step inside.

I shut the door and lean against it.

Angelo points to the chair. "Sit."

"I'm good here," I claim.

Angelo grinds his molars then threatens, "I'm not going to warn you again, Luca. Sit."

I cave and do as I'm told. I've pushed Angelo enough today. Any further, and I'm in hot water. Instead, I refocus my anger on the O'Connors. They put me in a bad position, and now my cover is blown. The other Marinos may trust the O'Connors, but I don't. I've barely ever had any contact with them, so until they pass my test, I'm not fully trusting them.

Angelo takes the seat next to me. "Seems we've got a big problem."

"What's that?" Brody asks, not taking his leer off me.

Angelo interrogates, "Brody, you want to tell me why you called the Feds on the Abruzzo whorehouse?"

Disgust fills Brody's expression. He explodes, "Feds? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"We know you did it," I declare.

"You better shut your mouth," he warns, pointing at me.

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