Dark Saint [Romano Brotherhood, #1]

26 | Santo

"The drop is going to be on Christmas day?" Angelo Scaloni, Underboss of the Scaloni Family—perhaps the only family whose problems with Luciano can compete with ours—grins at me from across the table of his lavish home office. 

The man is smiling like we're not talking about the horrible fate of a several dozen women and children, but that's just Angelo. He likes to act all buddy-buddy with me because we have similar names—their meanings being 'saint' and 'angel'—but are violent criminals. I'm not sure where he gets off acting like that's cute and we can be best friends because of it, but I tolerate it because of our common ground. 

And despite his smiling face, Angelo is a deadly foe. 

"Alberto Martinez gave me that information. He has no reason to lie—his daughter will be in that shipment—but Luciano could be pulling one over on him."

Angelo's eyes darken at the mention of the Genovese Boss. Luciano is the reason his wife was killed. It was two years ago now, but it perpetuated a grudge that the Scaloni Underboss will take to his grave. She was collateral in a drug exchange gone awry. A stupid, unnecessary death.

One life, stolen and extinguished. Meaningless to me and everyone else but everything to Angelo. Death is funny that way.

"And where will these women be taken on Christmas day?"

"An abandoned bait shop forty-five minutes off the harbor. It's a big facility—used to be a factory for heavy machinery back in the day. Off the grid, practically invisible. It's the perfect spot."

"Merry Christmas to them, huh?" Angelo grins, and I exhale air through my nose. That's about the extent of the positive emotion he's going to get from me. 

"We need to confirm this date and location. It's a month out. We must be certain Luciano isn't planning anything else behind the scenes," Simo chimes in.

Angelo's eyes light up. He's been waiting to bring something else up this entire conversation, and he's just found his window.

"There was a body found, weeks back. Female. Dark hair. One hundred forty-five pounds. Beaten to a fucking pulp. But most notably, she had the mark of a Son of Serpentine on her wrist."

I stiffen. "And?"

Of course his slimy ass found out about that. Serpentine and the mark that every Son bears—freshly carved every month, always there—are no secret. It's more a whisper that floats through the lips of the criminal underworld obscured by the fog of uncertainty.

Angelo shrugs. "And could this be what you're worried Luciano could be up to behind the scenes?"

Luciano, making a calculated attack on Serpentine?

Yeah, right.

"There's no motive," Simo cuts in. "This is him making a mockery of my family, wanting something to laugh about when he calls us with silly demands. It's not anything deeper."

Angelo changes the subject, bored with this one. "Word on the street is that you have his son—that whiny, weak-minded halfwit."

The glint in his eye turns into a full-blown smile when he notes my silence. "Word on the street is also that you're in possession of his daughter. It appears the Romano Family has a lot of stake in the game."

My chest tightens, annoyance pulsing through me. Angelo always likes to fucking deviate from the business at hand to discuss personal matters. "The daughter is not involved in this. Carlo Genovese broke into our home. He'll be punished for that, right after we get as much as we can from him regarding his father's plans. Luciano has been pushing for weeks, and now he's in our city. That's the only stake we've ever had in this game."