I slam my forearm into his chest and crash him back into the wall with a snarl. His eyes go wide in alarm, and he clenches his fist back to smash it into my face but stops cold.
I press the naked edge of a knife against his cheek, snarling like a dog.
“What else have you been lying about?”
His lips pull back into a sneer. “I tried to warn you. This is a bad day.”
“How often does he have abad fucking day?”
“More often than not lately.” He tilts his head. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
“Take control, you weak fucking shit.”
“You don’t understand. The family’s a mess. Dad’s the only thing keeping it together. Corrado would happily tear it all to pieces if I tried to step into Dad’s position before he dies. They’d call it a fucking coup.” He shakes his head, skin brushing over my knife. It leaves a little red line, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe Raf is tougher than I gave him credit for.
I step back, flicking the knife away and back into my pocket. He wipes the blood from his cheek with his palm.
“What am I supposed to do here? I can’t sit back and let your uncle keep trying to kill me and your sister.”
“Dad doesn’t have long. Once he’s gone, we can make our move. I’ll take over as the Don of the Serrano Famiglia, and we can kill Corrado together.”
“Why not just do it now?”
“Because the other Capos might not like that. I told you, everything’s barely holding together. Corrado is more popular than you realize. Your family’s money is helping, but my uncle’s been sowing the seeds for this mutiny for a while now.”
I stare at him and resist the temptation to draw my knife again. “You’re risking your sister’s life for your own power.”
“It’s for the Famiglia.”
“No, it’s so you can become the Don. You don’t have the backing of the Capos. Instead, you have my family’s support, all thanks to your sister’s sacrifice.”
“She’s doing her duty.” He turns back to his father’s bedroom. “And I’m the rightful heir. Once Dad passes and I officially take his position, Corrado will die, and the Capos will fall into line. Loyalty’s like sand. It washes away in a fucking storm.”
“Soaks up blood too,” I murmur as he walks away, frustrated as hell.
I’m fighting a war with my hands tied behind my back. I know who my enemy is, but I can’t go out and kill him. Instead, these pathetic idiots want to play politics while I’m out here running a war.
How am I supposed to keep my wife safe if I can’t even kill the man trying to kill her?
“Thank god you’re here,”Stefano says, sounding genuinely relieved. “If I had to stare at that fucking tent for ten minutes longer, I was gonna rip out my own eyeballs.”
I clap him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re a good man. But you seriously should look into adult-onset ADHD.”
“Never been a problem before.”
“Because you rarely ever have to sit still for long.”
He grunts with a slight shrug. “Anyway, you’re here now. Guess I’m relieved?”
“For a few minutes at least. I can’t stay long.”
He lets out a long sigh. “When’s Leo coming again?”
“An hour. You’ll survive.”
“Fuck.”
I walk off and leave him brooding on my front stoop. Poor Stefano’s never been good with guard duty. We usually only bring him along when there’s a guarantee of action. The taste of blood in the air typically calms him down. I don’t hold it against him though—that man’s been through worse shit than most people can imagine. He deserves some leeway.
