She looks to Santo. He’s gone white as a sheet, and his lips are pressed together. His hand is pressed to his shoulder which is leaking crimson blood onto his fingers.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Santo says. “I promise, just get me the fuck out of here.”
“Anyone else here?” I ask. “Are there any other shooters we need to look for?”
He shakes his head. “They took a flight out ten minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“Anna Regazza.” He sighs. “Leo too, Tavi.”
Leo.
My Uncle Leo.
I remember the day I came to claim the body. I called Leo, because it was his brother’s son I went to identify.
How’d he know they were ready early for me? I thought nothing of it at the time, but if he set it up…
It all fits. It all fucking fits. Leo didn’t remember seeing Santo at the wedding, said he was too piss drunk. He wasn’t. He had a hand in this.
Leo, with his mistress in Tuscany.
Romeo never found our mole after Elise’s father was killed on our property. He fired every member of staff and hired new people.
We never questioned Leo. We didn’t know we had to.
“Don’t trust him,” Elise says, her voice shaking as she glares at Santo. “I don’t trust him.”
“You’ll see everything,” Santo says. “I promise, you will.”
“Stand up, Santo.” My voice is hard. I still don’t trust him. I still don’t know why he’s here. “Where’s Leo?”
Santo grimaces, in such obvious pain I cringe. “On his way to Bali with his mistress. Set up a team at the airport. Catch him when he lands. Trust me, Tavi. You’ll see everything soon.”
We have to bring him out of here bleeding.
Elise cringes when I kneel to help him and nearly slip on the blood that’s spilled on the floor, but she doesn’t apologize or make any excuses. She only walks to his other side while he tells us where we’ll need to go through gritted teeth. Apparently there are lots of exits if you know where you’re going.
“We’ll need to go left,” Santo says. My comm device crackles in my ear.
“Yeah?”
“You got him?” Romeo asks. “Is he alive?”
“So far.”
Once, years ago, I was on the other side of Romeo’s wrath. I don’t ever want to be in that position again.
“Bring him home,” he says. “I’ve got a private jet at the airport on standby.”
I scowl down at the bodies and shake my head. “Can’t do that, brother. I’ve got carnage here and need to figure out who’s behind what.” I stare down at Santo. “And I… I think he needs medical attention.”
Romeo curses. “I don’t fucking care. You were ambushed by our enemies. You have no backup. You’re harboring a traitor with you. If he dies, he fucking dies.”
There is no other reason Santo took Elise and hid her. The others didn’t even know she was there.
He said he’d explain everything. And honest to God, it’s not in his character to betray The Family. He’s cunning and ruthless, but his loyalty to The Family can’t be questioned.
“And Rome?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll wanna lock down Leo, as soon as possible.”
He curses under his breath again. “Motherfucking motherfucker!”
“Yeah.”
Romeo blows out a breath. “Fine. I’ve got a car coming around to get you. Take him to your place in Tuscany. I’ll call in extra bodyguards to protect you. You’re a goddamn marked man until we sort this shit out. The second Santo’s ready to fly, bring ‘im home. And in the meantime, you question the shit out of him.”
I stare at Santo, who meets my eyes. He nods, and winces when he tries to sit up. “I’ll tell you everything brother but get her the fuck out of here. Fuck, leave me. They’ll come and get me and finish me off.”
“Why does this guy look like Piero?” Elise asks coldly. She stares down at his lifeless body with its vacant eyes. “Brother?”
Santo nods. “Yeah.”
“Let’s ask questions later,” I tell her. “We want to be out of here as soon as possible.”
Between the two of us, we heave Santo up. He isn’t as big as I am, but he isn’t small either. Elise is fierce, though, and Santo bears as much of his own weight as he can.
“Take a right, Tav,” Romeo says in my ear. “Black car waiting for you. Go. Orlando’s got the police locked down in the lobby. You’ve got exactly thirty seconds before anybody sees you.”
My hands are hot and sweaty as I grip Santo’s arm. He curses under his breath. “We have thirty seconds before the police come.” We’ve got cops on our payroll, but it’s a lot trickier in Tuscany than Boston. “Go, go.”
Santo curses, nearly crying, but Elise holds onto him tightly with not an ounce of sympathy. “Get in the car,” she says, half dragging him. It’s then that I remember Santo killed Piero. She’ll have questions for him.