“Just how in the hell do you know Valentinetti?” Ghost asked, leaning back in his chair, staring at me.
“We are cousins. First cousins. His father and our mother were brother and sister.” I quickly answered.
“Were?”
“Our uncle Valentino was killed in a car explosion some years ago. When he died, my cousin, Gio, Uncle Val’s oldest son, took over the family,” I added.
“And neither of you thought it was important enough to tell the club, your President, that you had ties to the mafia?” Ghost asked.
“Not mafia, and it never came up,” I muttered.
“IT NEVER CAME UP!” Reaper shouted, throwing a chair across the room. It shattered when it hit the wall.
Damn, I was gonna have to pay for that.
Gio doesn’t like paying extra for damages.
“What about all those meetings where we all discussed an alliance with Valentinetti? At any one of those meetings, you didn’t think that would be the perfect time to say, ‘Hey Reaper, that’s my cousin?” Ghost grinned.
“No.”
“Do you realize the shit storm this club is in? I asked you to do one thing. One thing! Protect my sister. In doing so, you brought the fucking mafia into this mess. Now, I have to add them to my heaping plate of all things fucked-up!”
Massacre stiffened, then quickly added, “Reaper, my brother was only doing what you asked him to do. You wanted Layla safe where no one could find her. Taking her to Gio was the only option. She is safe.”
Reaper turned his attention on Massacre, who didn’t flinch when the Prez stared sternly at him. After a second or two, Reaper looked at Ghost and said, “I can’t even look at them. They look like two fucking Ken Dolls!”
Ghost did laugh at that. “Didn’t know you played with Barbie’s Reaper. Should I put that on your Christmas list this year?”
“Shut the fuck up, Ghost,” Reaper growled.
God, I was so fucking happy Ghost was sitting in on this meeting. The man never got heated. Well, unless it had to do with his woman Ari, but she wasn’t here, and for some reason, Ghost was having fun listening to my ass chewing.
Pervert.
Massacre lightly bumped me. Turning, I looked at my brother, who nodded towards Reaper and whispered, “Tell him about Layla.”
Shaking my head, I didn’t want to anger the man anymore. He was a caged lion right now, and one wrong move and he would literally rip my throat out.
Nope.
Bossman said his plate was already full.
No sense in adding a heaping pile of more trouble.
Massacre sighed, then said, “There’s something you need to know about Layla, boss.”
“You snitch!” I shouted as I tackled my brother onto the bed, punching him in the stomach. “You have the biggest fucking mouth!”
Hitting him over and over again, I didn’t know how long we fought, but I do know when Reaper ripped me off him and threw me against the wall. When I blinked, Reaper was in my face, and one of his blades was at my neck. “Don’t piss me off, Player.”
Blinking, I gulped and said, “No, sir.”
“What the fuck is Massacre talking about? What about Layla?”
Glancing at Massacre, Reaper’s blade slightly moved. I cringed as I felt the cold steel blade slice through the side of my neck like butter.
“Reaper,” Massacre growled. “Let him go.”