Page 89 of Cartel Devil

“If they’re the only Boston family you think would do this, what about outsiders? I don’t mean New Yorkers.”

The Vizzinis have pissed people off on both sides of the Atlantic. I still think this is more about them than my family. I could be wrong, but I could be right. I sense the men want to look at each other, but that’d be a massive tell. Instead, they lift their chins and stare at me.

“Can you have your pissing contest against my boyfriend later? They’re going to discharge me tomorrow, and I want to know who to look out for. Joaco, what about that woman?”

“What woman?”

A chorus of six voices fills the room. Their expressions scream they believe Tre’s referring to a woman from my past.

“While Joaco went to get a doctor because I started cramping, a woman came in here. She looked like a nurse and had a scalpel and tried to attack me. I defended myself until Joaco came back. One of his men took her away.”

“She didn’t come up in the Massachusetts or New York DMV records when my brothers looked. They’re expanding the search. We figure she’s a mercenary, so it won’t be easy to trace her.”

Jorge texted me this morning with that news. The guy who dragged her out of here sent a headshot to my brother. They got nothing out of her, so they disposed of her. I trust my men, so I didn’t ask how or where. I just thanked them.

Tre observes me before looking at her family. She’s contemplating something, and it makes me uneasy. I know she’s still hiding things from me.

“I need to tell Joaco the whole reason I was sent to New York.”

Chapter Twenty

Tre

Joaquin’s expression is curious and attentive, but Lord only knows what’s going through his head that he doesn’t want me to read. He doesn’t rush me, which is good because I need to collect my thoughts. And if the other guys perceive any questions from him as pressuring me to divulge family secrets, then this will go sideways fast.

“Six months ago, Don Francesco Toretta reached out to Uncle Tommaso.”

Too many names that fucking overlap in these families. The Sicilian douchebag that’s pressuring me shares the same name as my dad, though as much as he hates it, my dad goes by Frank most of the time. My dad’s sister, Vittoria, has the same name as one of my best friends. My Sicilian American aunt goes by Tori while my Venetian friend goes by Toria. And you can throw a rock and hit at least twenty Mikeys, Paulys, and Tommys.

“Your family already does business with the Sicilians.”

My brother, cousins, and friends narrow their eyes at Joaquin, who rolls his.

“No fucking surprise I know that. I know what you had for dinner last night.”

I doubt he does, but we all know he could. My thumb swipes over the back of his, hoping it’s calming. When he isn’t curled next to me on the bed, our fingers are entwined. The only time we let go of each other is when one of us needs to go to the bathroom or someone comes in to examine me.

“Don Francesco wants information about the Mancinellis. He thinks they’re pulling away and not supporting the Torettas the way they’re supposed to. He thinks Salvatore owes him more loyalty and should’ve come to his aid when the turf war began. He resents your family brokering the truce when he believes it should’ve been Salvatore. He wants to know whether Salvatore supports the Mala del Brenta more than his own Cosa Nostra.”

While Jorge was dating his wife, Anneliese, a dispute broke out among four rival syndicates in Italy. The Venetian Mala del Brenta and Sicilian Cosa Nostra against the Calabrian ’Ndrangheta and Neapolitan Camorra. It was a proxy war that was really the O’Rourkes versus the Kutsenkos. The O’Rourkes supported the Venetians and Sicilians, and the Kutsenkos supported the Calabrians and the Neapolitans. I only know this because my dad had to fill me in enough to know what to listen for.

“He cannot seriously believe Salvatore isn’t supportive. Salvatore is married to the man’s cousin. Salvatore’s nephew through his sister married Sylvia’s niece through her sister.”

“Yes, and Sylvia’s sister is married to the Mala del Brenta don. He suspects Salvatore is siding with Piero rather than him.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know. Since I refuse to betray anything Sera or Toria tell me, and it’s not like we talk about these things anyway, I haven’t had much to pass along. Elle certainly won’t let anything slip.”

It doesn’t help that Toria’s father is the Mala del Brenta’s consigliere. I suppose that’s supposed to help me spy, but it only complicates my life.

“What’s Don Francesco holding over your uncle that made him believe he could coerce you into this?”

I meet Rocco’s gaze for a moment, wanting his consent before I say more. I hate that I have to defer to someone rather than be open with Joaquin, but this affects my entire family. My cousin nods with resignation.

“He threatened Toria and me. Said he’d kill us both. He sent two carved-up hearts to my apartment here. I don’t believe he sent anything to Toria, but he included her in the threat I received.”

I observe Joaquin’s reaction, and it immediately becomes shut off. I know it now, so it doesn’t spook me as much. It’s the clearest sign that I shouldn’t ask what he’s thinking. It’s likely something that would terrify me.