When Villains Rise (Anti-Heroes in Love 2)

“Is that enough?” Elena asked, her voice saccharine even though I could see her eyes flash from where I sat.

Merda, but she was amazing to watch in her element.

The Judge stared at the evidence unhappily, sliding a quick look over at Dennis who was trying his best to seem unperturbed. Only his skin was flushed and he snapped his pencil in two in he went to write something down.

He caught me looking at him so I let one of my bestial grins dominate my face. He blinked, his chin canting in slightly in concession to his need to get away from me.

I almost laughed, but Elena crossing back to our table distracted me.

“Fine,” Judge Hartford allowed. “Mrs. Salvatore will remain. Are long as Mr. Salvatore knows the consequences?”

“Oh, I do, Your Honor,” I assured him, innuendo ripe in my tone.

Behind us, the crowd laughed.

Elena sat beside me and surreptitiously squeezed my thigh beneath the table.

“May we move on to the matter at hand now, Your Honor?” Yara had the balls to ask.

The Judge scowled, but agreed. “Yes, opening witness may take the stand.”

“Point one for us,” Elena murmured softly.

“Still have a long way to go, lottatrice.”

“Oh, I know,” she agreed, almost gleefully, so in her element she seemed to glow. “The fun is just getting started.”

It turned out, she was right.

The first witness was Ottavio Petretti, the man who owned Ottavio’s deli where Giuseppe di Carlo was murdered. The man Elena had gone to Staten Island to convince to testify and then been nearly run off the road by the di Carlos and the Irish mob.

Under Yara’s coaxing, he admitted that he’d been paid to leave the premises by Giuseppe di Carlo’s thug because they planned to do violence to the girl in the shop, Cosima Lombardi. He also confessed that he knew me on sight and had not seen me in Brooklyn the day of the shooting.

Dennis O’Malley looked annoyed, but not crestfallen. He spoke to his associate who scurried out of the room to do his bidding.

When he cross-examined Ottavio, he tore him to pieces like a carcass in the mouth of a wild dog. He mentioned the deli owner’s drinking problems, his poor vision, the fact that he had never met me formally, only in passing and therefore could have been mistaken about not seeing me there that day.

By the time he was done, Ottavio’s flesh, pink face was quivering and deeply unhappy.

Cazzo.

The next day, we brought in the big guns.

Carter Andretti.

He was mostly healed from the brutal beating I’d given him in the abandoned subway station under my apartment building, but he still had the look of someone who fought often and not every well. His nose was lumpy as a bad mattress as a result of poorly set breaks, his neck thicker than an average man’s biceps and short on his big shoulders. He looked like a mafioso caricature and I wasn’t sure if that would help or hinder the case.

He wasn’t there out of the goodness of his heart to testify against his own Family. We had men watching his house and his family. We’d told him that if he wanted any hope of surviving what he and his thugs had done to Cosima, he would confess.

“How many were there of you in the car?” Yara asked, deep into the interrogation, gathering speed and intensity like a runaway train.

“Uh, well, there was me, Philly, Pizza Paul, and Fedele.”

“And you all had weapons?”

“Yeah,” he said, like duh.

“Can you be more specific?”

“We used Colt 6920s. They’re the best on the market.”

“Good to know,” Yara drawled, turning to make eyes at the media.

A few people tittered with laughter.

“Can you tell us who sent you to Ottavio’s and with what purpose?”

Carter looked at her for a moment, licking his dry lips. His gaze darted to me for just a second, but it was long enough for him to feel the weight of my threatening stare.

“Agostino di Carlo ordered us to hit up O’s because he wanted to take out Giuseppe.” He looked at the judge. “That’s his uncle.”

“Thank you, I’m aware,” Judge Hartford said drily.

“Why did he want to kill his own uncle?”

“Him and his brother wanted to take over the, uh, the family business.”

Yara smiled comfortingly. “Of course. Thank you for being so honest with us today. Could you just tell us what you did with the weapons when you were done?”

“We dropped ’em in the Hudson.”

Yara turned to the screen that was set up to the right of the witness stand and clicked something on a remote. An image appeared of four automatic rifles in large plastic evidence bags.

“These Colt 6920s were found when we had a diver survey the area of the river Mr. Andretti recalled disposing of the weapons in. As you can see, the guns match his description. They are also a match for the bullet wounds forensic found in Giuseppe di Carlo and his associate, Ernesto Pagano.”