Page 101 of Brutal Revenge

I’m hungover, grouchy, and one wrong breath away from putting my fist through the conference room table, and the worst part is that none of this is anyone’s fault but my own. My brothers are doing something honorable. I should be proud of them, supportive, even, but instead, I sit here with a pounding skull and a stomach full of regret, annoyed at myself for how catastrophically my plan to force Azra into honesty backfired.

My brilliant plan to make Azra tell the truth blew up in my face so spectacularly that I should win a medal for self-sabotage. I thought pretending I wanted Isabella would shake Azra enough that she’d admit she didn’t want to marry Antonio.

She barely flinched.

I must have tickets on myself, because I truly thought she’d react. Maybe not to the degree she did the blonde earlier this week at the gala, but anything would have been better than the silence she gave.

Dante leads the meeting by explaining the situation with Gabriele, the boy Lucia believed was her son for years. She loved him and protected him as if he were her own, and even after the truth came out, she continued to prioritize his best interests.

It’s been an uphill battle. Gabriele’s biological father was a low-ranked member of the Cosa Nostra. This complicates everything because, even though the man is dead, his bloodline ties Gabriele to rules we can’t ignore—rules I’d happily sidestep if it meant Azra could be honest with herself.

“We need to secure custody before a rival thinks they can use Lucia’s love of Gabriele against us,” Dante says, rubbing his temples. “Lucia loves that boy as if he were her own, so I don’t care how much it’ll cost to secure him.”

“Do you think this could end up being about money?” Giovanni asks.

Dante nods. “We took care of Carmela, but we don’t know how deep her lies run yet. We’ve got tabs on her family, but…” His worry won’t let him finish his reply. The thought of disappointing Lucia is as potent as the worry that he’s a deadbeat dad.

“If anyone takes him, we’ll intervene.” Giovanni thrusts his hand between himself and me. “And we won’t be gentle.”

I purse my lips, finally on board with this meeting. I have a fuck ton of anger to dispel, but no fool willing enough to slip up. Antonio almost did when he curled his arm around Azra’s waist, but Giovanni quickly reminded me through the speakers in my helmet that my deal with Azra became void the instant he replaced my name with Antonio’s.

“We need to move fast,” Nico says. “We should bring in a legal guardian who can protect him until the court has decided on custody.”

The court he mentions differs from the standard family court where people typically file custody disputes. Henry Gottle Sr. governs this one. The boss of all bosses.

“We’ve already taken care of that. Now we need to build the case carefully. We need to show Lucia is fit to raise him without making her look weak.” Dante would gut a man for even insinuating Lucia can’t take care of herself. “And we need to keep any long-lost family members from stepping in before we’re awarded custody.”

It’s a chaotic, fragile situation. My brothers are managing it so itwill have no negative impact on our family, but I can’t focus. My head is pounding, and my thoughts keep drifting to Azra.

She sat in the SUV for an hour. An hour!

I thought she was having second thoughts.

Shows how much I know.

“Can we hurry this up?” I mutter, rubbing my temples. “I’ve got shit to do that doesn’t involve babysitting a minor.”

Don’t misunderstand me. I’ll be there with bells on and my bat if anyone dares to lay a hand on Gabriele, but this, the plotting and the planning, is not my part of our business.

Four sets of Caruso eyes snap toward me.

Giovanni raises a brow before he acts as if I don’t do everything in my power to piss him off a minimum of ten times a day. “What crawled up your ass?”

“Clearly not the same hand puppeteering your every move.” I’m a prick. No kinder word exists, but this is how a man acts when someone has played him for a fool. “We used to discuss drug shipments, prostitutes, and tactics to ensure we didn’t sample the same cunt within an hour of each other. Now we talk about weddings, babies, and bedtime stories that don’t get close to a PG rating. You’ve gone fucking soft.”

Giovanni pushes back his chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. “Do you want to try that again?”

I stand too fast and too aggressively.

“Try what again?” I shoot back, glaring at him.

Dante rises too, jaw tight. “Sit down, Matteo.”

“Or what?” I ask, my voice low, dangerous, and stupid.

The tension spikes so fast that the air crackles.

Giovanni steps forward, unconcerned that I’m a head taller than him and a fuck ton heavier. “Either sit down or I’ll put you in the fucking chair myself.”