A Vow of Lust and Fury (Underworld Kings)

“One of you is a rat, and believe me when I say, I will find you. And when I do...”

Nero took a step closer to the table. “Come forward now and your families won’t be harmed.”

Andrea glared at him, which was foolish. “We don’t touch women or children.” Ah, the old Famiglia and their fucking ideals.

“This is not the old Famiglia,” Nero sounded bored, probably because he’d heard this a thousand times. “I do not play by their rules. You know this.” He rounded the table, shifting closer to Andrea. “You know well what I will do to your wife and children if you’ve betrayed me.” He clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough that the older man winced. “Have you betrayed me, Andrea? Are you a filthy rat?”

“N-no,” he stumbled, and Nero grinned, his expression totally fucking depraved.

Jesus, he played the mad man far too well. Not that it was really an act. I’d never actually let him kill innocent kids. The threat was powerful, though, because he’d done it before.

I cleared my throat. “I offer you the opportunity to come forward now and protect your families.” I stared right at Andrea as I said it.

He sure had a lot to say on the subject, but that made me think it wasn’t him. No, our rat would be one of the silent ones who couldn’t look at me.

“You will not be afforded this opportunity again.”

No one moved, every single man staring at the food in front of them like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, except Tommy, who was happily eating as though nothing were happening.

“How disappointing. Well then, you’re free to go.”

They scrambled away, leaving full plates in their wake.

I met Jackson’s gaze at the end of the table. “Have them followed.” A panicked rat would act blindly. We just had to wait and watch.

Nero left straight after the meeting, probably to resume dad duties. After breakfast, I pushed to my feet and glanced at Tommy. “I assume Renzo Donato is still alive.”

He placed his coffee down. “Yeah. You going to keep him that way? He did kinda steal your girl.”

“For now.” Donato wanted the boy back, which meant he was useful. “Where is he?”

With a jerk of his head, he stood up and moved into the hallway. I followed him to the basement and past the interrogation room before he unlocked the door at the end of the dark corridor. It was a cell of sorts, used for holding prisoners between interrogations. We never used it, though, because Jackson always cracked them on the first go.

Renzo Donato was on a single bed in the windowless, cinderblock room. His skin was pale, dark hair matted to his forehead, and a blood bag attached to his arm. He looked like shit in the unique way that only a man who had brushed death could, but he was alive and conscious. He struggled to sit up, clutching his bandaged stomach.

“Where the fuck is my sister?” The words seemed to take considerable effort.

“She’s safe.” For now. The words hung in the air between us, unspoken but no less potent for their silence.

He glared at me. “Is that where you get your kicks? Forcing yourself on unwilling girls?”

In my periphery, Tommy straightened away from the wall. “I suggest you shut up before he decides he doesn’t need you alive.”

“My marriage to your sister was your uncle’s stipulation, not mine. I find it to be… an ineffective way of sealing alliances.”

His brows furrowed. “Then don’t do it. Just let her go. Emilia isn’t like us. She’s…” His gaze dropped to the blanket over his legs. “She deserves better.” The boy was entrenched in the mafia, an enforcer for his father at the tender age of twenty-four, and yet he’d risked it all to help her run. Even now, in the hands of a potential enemy, he pled for her freedom. Interesting. Renzo Donato was not what I expected.

“As touching as your ideals are, an alliance with your family is convenient to me. I don’t like to sully myself with Chicago.” I let a cold smirk wash over my face. “And let’s be honest, having Emilia in my bed is no hardship.”

His jaw ticced, fists balling against the sheets. “You’re a piece of shit.”

I knew exactly what he was thinking, and I didn’t correct him. Let him think I was the monster in his pretty little sister’s story. “Of course, if you were to give me something else… a bargaining chip—”

“You think I’m going to sell out my family?” He huffed a painful-sounding laugh. “To you of all people.”

I smiled, placing a hand on my chest. “I’m hurt.”

“You have no fucking honor,” he snarled. “You don’t deserve my sister.”

My temper threatened to spike as he spoke of honor when he came from a nest of vipers. “Oh, and your honorable family who tried to kill her does?”