“You look better.” His voice was a rasped whisper over the side of my neck, hot breath making me shiver. He picked up my coffee and lifted it to his lips. “Eat your croissant, princess.”
I glared at him as he sipped from my mug but took a bite of the pastry because, as Jackson had pointed out, Gio was overbearing.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
My face flushed with heat, and I dared peek through the curtain of my hair at my brother. His attention was on us, but for once, he wasn’t glaring at Gio. That was probably a good thing.
“You wanted a meeting,” Ren said, leaning back against the couch cushions. “I assume to discuss my uncle.”
Just like that, the bite I’d taken turned to ash in my mouth. I placed the rest of the croissant back onto the plate.
“We can’t find him,” Jackson grumbled.
“And you think we might know where he is.” Renzo snorted. “I gave you a list of capos. None of them rolled on him?”
“None yet, and trust me, I was very persuasive.” The coldness in Jackson’s voice made me sit up, but Gio’s hand slid over my hip, entrapping me.
His thumb slipped just above the waistband of my leggings, stroking soft circles. “You are his nephew and an enforcer. Emilia is his niece. There must be something—”
I laughed, the sound hollow even to my own ears. Sergio’s dog would have more idea of his whereabouts than I did. “I know nothing of my family’s business dealings.” I barely knew their personal ones.
“You might have overheard something—”
I met Gio’s gaze. “I haven’t.”
I was about to ask if I could leave, to retreat back to my solitude, when Renzo spoke up.
“He obviously knows that you know he fucked you over. That you’re coming for him.”
Gio rolled his eyes. “No shit.”
“So you won’t find him. The capos probably don’t even know where he is.” Ren shrugged. “I can tell you the addresses of a few of his homes outside the city. He’ll be close to Chicago, but I doubt he’ll be anywhere I would know.” His gaze flicked to me. “He’s aware of where my loyalty lies.” Renzo’s loyalty was to me, and I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve such an amazing brother. “Does Sergio know our father is dead?”
Gio’s hand sliding to the back of my neck was the only warning I got before Jackson spoke.
“Well, we sent him Roberto’s hand. So I’d say so.”
“Jackson,” Gio hissed.
Jackson glanced from me to Gio to Renzo. “What? I thought we didn’t like him, given that…” He jerked his head toward me. “You know.”
I felt sick. They cut off my father’s hand to send to my uncle. Why would they do that? Did Sergio know it was me who had done it? He would hunt me down. Kill me.
My breaths came too fast until it felt as though no air was truly getting into my lungs. My vision tunneled.
“Out,” Gio snapped.
There was a shuffle of feet, the click of the door closing, and then he was pushing to his feet, placing me on the desk.
Hands clasped my face, forcing me to look at him. “Breathe, Emilia.”
“Why would you do that?” I couldn’t keep the hysteria out of my voice.
He towered over me, steeled and cold in the face of my unstable emotions. “I sent your father’s hand with his signet ring to your uncle because it’s what I would do had I killed him.”
I could barely think straight. “What? You want him to think it was you?”
“Yes.”
I peered at him through my blurred vision. “Why?”
“Like, I said, I would have killed Roberto anyway. I also sent the head of the rat who betrayed us, so trust me, Sergio will not be questioning who killed his brother or why. The timing of Roberto’s death was… convenient.”
Convenient… “And that’s all it is? You’re allowing him to think it was you for the sake of convenience?”
We stared at each other for a moment before his gaze softened.
“You know it’s not,” he murmured as fingers swept over my cheek. “I would protect you from this entire fucked up world if I could, Emilia.”
By cutting up my father. Why did the thought trouble me so much? Maybe it just added to the guilt that had begun to feel like a part of me. Not only had I killed him, but the man didn’t even get the dignity of being buried whole, not even in some unmarked grave. My mother would have no closure, Luca… Luca would hate me.
“It’s all just so…”
“Awful?”
“Disturbing.”
“You’re thinking like an innocent girl, Emilia. This is the mafia.”
“But—”
“Your father chose this life, as did I, as did your uncle. Sergio and Roberto decided to play a dangerous game. They knew the risks.” He pressed between my legs, his breath washing over my face. “And I’ll remind you that one of those risks was you. Your father didn’t care for you in life, and he’ll get no fucking respect from me in death.”