Clemente
"How?"
I watch him, surprisingly stoic for someone whose insides feel like a fucking sauna of rage. The man I'm desperately trying not to skin alive and chop into fucking pieces glares at his soldier with barely restrained anger. The irony that he's completely ignorant of my own fury is not lost on me. But that's expected. Ignorance may very well be one of his best qualities compared to the others.
"How?" the arsehole repeats. "It was six against two, and you are the only one left alive-by their choice. They were barely armed, for fuck's sake!"
The soldier keeps his eyes locked on his leader, jaw tight. "They are extremely skilled."
"You were trained by me."
"And it was not enough."
His body slumps to the floor immediately. A bullet went through his neck the second those words left his mouth. I look to my right at Vincent, who watches the scene unfold in disdain. It's a miracle he hasn't fired the remaining bullet in our gun yet.
"What do you require?" Cassius Russo Gabriel, consigliere, and the cunt who single-handedly ruined my fucking life, tucks the gun he shot his soldier with back into his waistband before locking eyes with me. His gaze is cold. Calculated. I know I'm wearing a similar expression. "Surely you didn't leave my soldier alive out of the goodness of your heart."
"We didn't realise we were leaving the honours to you either," Vincent drawls. He swings his blade between his fingers. The clench of his jaw is warning enough that he might launch the thing at any moment.
Gabriel looks to my brother, and his scowl intensifies. "This is business between leaders. Who are you to talk to me?"
Vincent moves, but I'm faster. I barely manage to wind my arms around him to keep him from charging forward. He struggles against my hold and lets out an angered scream. It could be at me and not Gabriel, but I can't let him go. He'll ruin the very plan we spent our entire incarceration perfecting.
Gabriel's soldiers reach for their guns, and I reach for mine. There isn't a head in this room that doesn't have a goddamn nine millimetre aimed at it within seconds.
"Smettetela," Gabriel hisses. His soldiers comply and stop, lowering their weapons hastily. Gabriel narrows his eyes at me. "You too, coglione."
My teeth grind. He should watch who he's calling the arsehole here. I keep my gun where it is. "Not happening."
Neither of us looks away, suspended in silent challenge. I raise a cool brow. I know how to play his game. I've been studying it for far too long. He'd do anything to not look weak, and he especially won't allow anyone to think he feels threatened.
"Fine," he shrugs. "If this helps you sleep at night."
Vincent jerks in my hold, another roar ripping out of him. I knew it wasn't going to be easy for us to come face-to-face with this fucker. I need to get this done now, or it will all be for nothing.
"We're going to talk," I demand. "In private."
"Oh? And why would I take such an order from you?"
"Because you don't want to find out what will happen if you don't."
Gabriel chuckles like this is all some big joke. "You're threatening me? With what, if I may ask?"
"You want to go there?"
He spans his arms out. "I have nothing to hide."
"No?" I lick my lips, adrenaline making my mouth dry. "Wise up, old man. We had the unfortunate chance of meeting before. Just the once. And don't you fucking think for a second that I don't remember. Want to take a trip down memory lane with me?"
I see it hit him. His shoulders tighten just barely. To anyone else there's no change in his body language or facial expressions. But I know exactly what to look for because we are the only ones in this room that know what I'm talking about.
"Take us somewhere private," I order. "We will speak now."
A long and terse silence stretches out. His soldiers glance between us to see what their leader will do. They think Vincent and I won't walk out of here alive. They have no idea they're about to roll out the motherfucking red carpet for us.
"Follow me," he finally says.
One of his men steps forward. "This could be a trap-"
"You're questioning me?" Gabriel snaps. The room goes quiet again and fills with tension. Gabriel is rigid when he walks past us and snaps his fingers in a silent gesture to follow him.
I let go of Vincent but regret it immediately when his face contorts. "Let me kill him. Fuck the plan."
"Control yourself," I demand in a low voice. "This is bigger than us. You will not show this fucker the hand we're about to deal him."
When Vincent reluctantly jerks his head in a nod, we follow Gabriel into one of the many cars in the parking lot of the prison. He gets in the front, and I follow suit, ducking into the passenger seat. I can tell by the scowl on his face he's not a fan of my bold behaviour, but I have no fucks to give. Vincent gets in the back, and he stares daggers into Gabriel, not bothering with manners any more than I am.
"You must know how this looks," he finally says. "Openly threatening the consigliere does not bode well for the two men that just got out of jail and took six men down with them."
"Perhaps you should have considered that before you locked us up."
"It was for good reason," he sneers, shaking his head in disgust. "You two murdered your own mother, for fuck's sake."
More terse silence. Glares are passed between the three of us, and the back of my jaw tightens at the mention of her. "We were framed."
"You were framed," he repeats with a humourless chuckle. "Then all is forgiven. Of course I believe you. You are very convincing."
"We were framed!" Vincent snaps. "Why the fuck would we kill our own mother?"
"The murder weapons belonged to you. Your fingerprints were all over it, and they were hidden in your rooms. Her autopsy revealed-"
"Her autopsy report was tampered with," I interrupt. "Don't be a fool, old man. You should know by now what it looks like when evidence is forged. You know the truth."
"The truth? I arrived when she was bled out and nothing more than a carcass." His eyes narrow. "I am consigliere. It was my duty to report you for your betrayal of the mafia the moment it was revealed you two killed her."
He talks to us of betrayal? My hand shoots forward without thinking, and I tighten my fingers around his neck. Gabriel stills with surprise but maintains a hardened face despite the fact that it is gradually turning purple. He severely underestimates the lengths my brother and I would go to for our redemption
"We betrayed no one," I whisper. "We had no reason to kill our mother."
"Except that she was mentally ill and a burden to you. You two barely acknowledged her when she went insane. You-"
His words are cut off with a harsh gasp when my fingers tighten around him. "Watch your mouth, or I'll carve each end of it to your ears."
"You're threatening me for doing my job? My loyalties are to the mafia before you. Seek your vengeance where it is appropriate to do so."
"But who better to seek it from than the very man who got us locked up?" Vincent murmurs dauntingly. "We were in there for months."
He barely glances at my brother before narrowing his eyes on me. "You were still released much earlier than your sentence."
"Because I made a deal with the boss."
He wasn't expecting that. The flash of surprise on his face was unmistakable, albeit brief. He struggles to say his next words with my hand still firmly holding his throat. "You spoke with Cassano?"
"I did. We had a lot to talk about."
"I find that hard to believe. He would never accept a meeting with you without my presence."
"Are you willing to call my bluff?"
