Page 78 of Texting My Mafia Boss

“What would you have me do?” Ruggero says. “I loved that boy, and he played on it. He used my love against me. He knew I wouldn’t question him. Now, he’s left me with the aftermath. Please, Ettore, old friend, tell me how my Family can make this up to yours.”

“It’s simple, Ruggero,” I say, leaning forward.

“Yes?”

“Very simple,” I go on. “If you could just reach into your pocket.”

“My pocket?”

“That’s right. Then take out your gun. Then blow your fucking brains out. Can you do that for me?”

He turns away in disgust.

“Ettore, please,” Cesare says. “Ruggero has come here in good faith.”

“He’s lying to you all,” I say. “He had full knowledge of everything his nephew did. He helped to plan it. That attack was too well orchestrated. There’s no way Bastian could plan that all on his own?—”

Cesare tries to cut in. I slam my fist on the table.

“He was going to—my daughter,” I snarl. I can’t even say it. “My little girl. And this bastard…” I point a finger at Ruggero. I want to say,He was behind my woman’s parents’ deaths. But that has no place here, which proves how twisted this all is. It would mean nothing to them. Just two people who got into too much debt. “He knew it. From the start.”

Ruggero shakes his head slowly. “I knew nothing.”

“I have to say,” Ottavio mutters. “I agree with Ettore on one point. Any Don unaware of an attack of this scale hasn’t got his house in order.”

Ruggero glares at me. “No one asked you.”

Ottavio chuckles. “What a big, scary man you are,” he says sarcastically.

“We need to get down to business,” Cesare says. “This is a tense situation. Look around the room, Ettore. We have to settle this civilly.”

“I’m looking at men who ought to know better than to follow a coward,” I say, staring at Corrado. I sigh, waving a hand. “Fine. Go get it.”

“What’s this?” Ruggero asks anxiously as two of my men leave the room.

“There’s still a chance to get your gun out,” I tell him. “To do the right thing.”

“What thehellis this?” Ruggero demands.

Justice for my daughter. Justice for Livia. And justice for Mara’s parents. That’s what it is, you lowlife thug.

My men drag Bastian into the room, barely enough strength to stand on his own. That same pity touches me, proof that I’m probably too soft for this life under all these layers of savagery.

“Tell them, Bastian,” I say coldly.

“And you’ll let me live?”

I can’t make promises in front of these men.

“Just tell them,” I snap.

Bastian looks up at Ruggero. “I’m sorry, uncle.”

“You said he was dead,” Ruggero snaps, glaring at me.

“I thought you’d be pleased. You seem very committed to mourning.”

“It was… us,” Bastian wheezes. “Both of us. We planned it all from the start. Uncle Ruggero said I had to do it through my men, because we have a reputation of being wild.”