Page 29 of Captive Bride: Armani
“Of course,” Dante says with a sardonic grin. “Armani’s famous last words.”
“Have I ever let you down?” I shoot back.
I’m comfortable tossing out the challenge. Because I haven’t. Dante doesn’t respond and all eyes in the room turn to me. As if I’m going to give anything away.
I grin and return to my cigar.
My brothers know that I think Candi is a mole, but they don’t know the full extent of my plans for her. They’re still not completely on board with her living here, or with me carrying on this charade of dating her. But that’s only because they have no idea what a valuable tool she is to me.
Candi is my plaything, in more ways than one.
True, I don’t know everything she’s been up to, but if my intel is correct about her being a spy for the Brunos, she’s about to play right into my hands and expose herself. Because I’m going to plant just enough false information that, if sheisa mole, she won’t be able to resist running straight to the Brunos with it. I’m going to set her up.
And if she gets caught in my trap, I’m going to make her pay.
Not for the first time, I wonder how exactly someone like Candi Gallagher got into this game. Where her loyalties really lie. What made her decide to play in the first place?
I’m going to find out everything about her.
“What about Livvie’s tattoo guy? Where are we at with him?” Dante asks.
Clayton shrugs. “Nowhere.
“He’s a goddamn ghost,” I add. “I’ve pursued every available avenue, but I’ve found nothing but dead ends. After he fucked with Marco’s car, he vanished.”
“He’s gotta be hiding out in the Bruno compound in Sicily, then.”
Dante says this as if it’s obvious. But Clayton doesn’t look convinced.
“My money says he’s still here,” Clayton argues. “He’s not family to them, not by blood. And he’s a nobody. He’s a button man or an associate, just a soldier. Why would they send him halfway across the world to keep him safe?”
“They wouldn’t,” I agree.
“He’s gotta be local,” Clayton says. “In the underground. We’ll find him.”
And when we do, I can’t wait to get my hands on him. The list of crimes he’s committed against our family is long—sabotage, murder, kidnapping, car tampering, breaking my little sister-in-law’s tender heart for fuck’s sake. I’m confident that even Dante, who hates violence, would love to have a turn when we catch this tattooed fucker.
“What makes you so sure he’s here?” Dante asks. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”
The question is aimed at Clayton, who, to his credit, remains unruffled despite the challenge in Dante’s tone. I’m curious to the answer, as well. But Clayton doesn’t give one, just grins and returns to his drink. The ice rattles in his glass, breaking the tense silence in the room. The Irishman is crafty and a pain in my ass, but he gets things done, so I’m not going to pressure him for an answer.
Yet.
I appear to be the only one who trusts Clayton. Marco and Dante are still on the fence, though Charlie’s husband has proven his loyalty to us plenty of times and has never backed down from a fight when it’s come to protecting this family.
“Great, so both of you are withholding information now.”
Dante looks between Clayton and me. Rolling my eyes, I push up from my chair and shove the cigar in Dante’s hand. He looks at it, considering, then pops it into his mouth.
“Don’t worry,” I tease. “Your wife isn’t here to yell at you. Enjoy it.”
Marco scoffs. “She’ll just smell it on you later.”
“I’m just practicing for when the baby is born,” Dante says. “That’s all.”
On one hand, I can’t imagine worrying about a woman chastising me for having a cigar. On the other, I don’t blame Dante for having a bit of a dress rehearsal before his daughter arrives.
“Frankie has been pregnant forever,” Marco jabs. “What has it been, about two years now?”
