Niccolo thought about what I was saying. Given his dealings with Filip two years before, he knew better than I what they could be planning.
“I’ve heard the two were combining forces for years. Maybe they finally decided now was the right time,” he said, sighing.
I laughed softly. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Does this woman mean something to you?”
“She’s the fucking commissioner’s daughter.” Admitting it was difficult enough. Accepting that she could have triggered something by her scathing articles wasn’t something I could forget.
“That’s not an answer, Valentin. If she’s gotten under your skin, then you have a real problem.” Niccolo was closer to me than my other brothers. We often confided in each other, even if we didn’t always agree on business practices.
“The woman is of no consequence, other than what she might know. Or it might be nothing more than an act of revenge.”
“If it’s possible she knows something, then maybe it’s time to interrogate her.” He tipped his head, waiting to see if I’d answer. “I’ll handle it if you’d prefer.”
“I’m not ready for that yet,” I admitted.
“I’m sorry I angered you, Valentin, but I’m not retracting what I said. Let Niccolo handle her if you’re too close. You need to get her out of your head. You fucked her. So the hell what? If that bastard Filip ever saw you with her, then your weakness will become your hell. He won’t hesitate to kill her, sending you daily accounts of how much she was forced to suffer.”
He was right. Filip would destroy her, enjoying every moment spent highlighting her torture. Goddamn it.
“Fuck Filip. Do you think he’s going to show his sorry ass in this place? He’s no fool, Brando, so you shouldn’t be one either. The men who walked through that door are nothing more than flunkies, low level soldiers that mean nothing to him should I desire to teach the man a lesson, an eye for an eye.” Which is exactly what was about to happen. The fact Casimine had contacted the police regarding the present I’d had dumped on his grounds indicated he was willing to play dirtier than I’d originally thought.
I refused to accept Filip’s bullshit any longer, nor did I enjoy the less than amusing visit from a hard-nosed Irish detective who was in way over his head.
Brando cursed under his breath. “Christ. You wanted them here so you could send the fucking Pole a clear message that you could get to him anywhere. Right?”
“It’s a good plan, soldier. I suggest you learn from a man who protected his entire fucking family in Italy during a raid when he was only ten. Shut the fuck up.” Niccolo’s vehemence surprised me.
I gave Brando a sour look, heading toward the bottle of Old Rip Van Winkle, the bourbon a gift from the Bratva Pakhan after taking the leadership position. To think I’d almost tossed it into the garbage. Tonight, I needed a shot or five after finding Cassidy in the club. What the fuck was she doing here? “I don’t need your fucking opinion. It would seem to me that you have a death wish. Is that so, Brando?” I poured three glasses, shoving two across my desk before gripping one of them.
The tension between us was as thick as the humid air. I was furious with myself for allowing the situation to get out of control so quickly. Or maybe attending the funerals of my men had provided me with a clear understanding of suffering and death. I wanted revenge any way I could get it.
“Goddamn it, Valentin. This shit is going to backfire.” Brando cursed under his breath in Italian. “You never used to play games before.”
“That’s before the bastard killed my men. My men.” I tossed back half the glass of bourbon, the smooth taste providing no relief from the burn that continued to plague my system. “I stood there today watching as tears were shed by children that had lost their mother and father at the same fucking time, Brando. What the hell did I have to offer them? Money? Yeah, I made certain their college funds are filled and waiting, but I couldn’t bring back their mother or father, which is what they really need. At least the four abandoned children had family members who’ll raise them.”
Niccolo grabbed a glass, lifting it into the air. “Al bottino di guerra.”
To the spoils of war.
While a part of me didn’t want that to happen, getting rid of a worthless enemy always had its benefits.
Brando remained quiet for a full minute. Then he whistled. “I’m sorry, Valentin, but you didn’t twist their arms to stand by your side. They respected you for your leadership. They trusted you.”
I laughed bitterly. “And you see where that trust got them. I am curious, Brando. Are you suggesting you no longer trust my leadership abilities?”
He looked away, exhaling. “I’m saying if she’s that important to you, then you need to get used to the same kind of violence your father tried to avoid. Heartache is just part of the job.”
Snorting, I tossed back the rest of my drink, slamming the glass on the desk. Then I reached for my weapon, double checking the ammunition before returning it to my pocket. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Niccolo, stay here and check the club. I don’t want any interruptions.”
“Should I be prepared to provide cleanup?” he asked, grinning as he usually did when thinking about inflicting pain.
“Yeah. Have three body bags prepared. The fourth gets to live in order to report back to Filip and his father.”