Page 99 of Righteous Deceit

“Do you have something you need to say, Freddie?” My brother cuts through the conversation with quiet violence.

“I don’t like being disrespected by lower-ranking members, boss.”

Salvatore nods, the movement slow, his face impassive. “Diego, can you remind Freddie of your position in New York.”

“Capo.”

“Seems you hold the same position,” Salvatore ponders sarcastically.

Freddie sighs. “You know what I mean, boss.”

Leaning back in his chair, my brother frowns. “I can’t say I do.”

“He’s barely outta diapers.”

Diego growls.

Rocco smiles.

“I took power at eighteen,” Salvatore combats.

Freddie shifts in his seat.

“But I believe it is irrelevant in this scenario. You disrespected another man’s wife. Caruso?” Salvatore calls. “What would you do if Freddie here had talked shit about Gabriella?”

“Taken a belt to his eye and watched him bleed until he begged for death.”

My brother raises an eyebrow. “Rocco,” he says. “You?”

“Beat him until he was pissing blood and then shoot him when I got bored.”

“Shall I ask Necktie here? I think we all know his reputation with a piece of barbed wire. Vincent, am I correct in assuming Freddie and that wire would become well acquainted had he disrespected Bianca like he did my sister?”

“Yeah,” Vincent murmurs, a smile in his voice. “You’d be correct, Bianchi.”

“Shall I keep going?”

Freddie opens his mouth, but my twin brother holds up a hand to stop him from speaking.

“I’ve decided your voice is irrelevant. Stand up and move farther along the balcony so your blood doesn’t get on our food.”

The old capo remains seated.

Salvatore stands and saunters around the table. “Your consigliera was attacked yesterday. It’s the reason this meeting was called, so I know you are aware. Instead of being concerned for her well-being, instead of praising her and Diego on their success of annihilating a genuine threat that stepped foot into our territory, you choose to be a slimy motherfucker instead.”

Grabbing the collar of Freddie’s jacket and shirt, Salvatore lifts him to his feet. The idiot struggles, his chair hitting my brother as he attempts to free himself from the boss’s grasp.

I’m conscious of the fact we have an audience.Witnesses.But while I want to warn my brother against the undeniable threat of onlookers, I know better than to question him in front of others, so I keep my mouth shut. Salvatore isn’t impulsive, and he’s not careless. If he’s willing to kill one of his own in front of the congregation of men surrounding us, his level of trust must be high, and if these men have my brother’s vote of confidence, they have mine.

I see the moment Freddie’s panic turns violent.

“Your father would be turning in his grave watching what you and your fat bitch of a sister have made of this family.”

“I’d stop speaking if I were you.” Salvatore drags him away from our guests. “Excuse me, gentlemen, please continue eating. I need to attend to something rather pressing.”

Dominic Rein, Rocco Shay, and the trio of mafioso from New York turn back to their food without hesitation, and I want to laugh at the absurdity of our lives. My brother is dragging a man to his death, and not one of them has batted an eyelash of concern or disdain.

“Alessia. Diego,” my brother calls.

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