The other papers are similar, using the same photos. I text Bruno.
Me: I’m going to guess Sonny is involved.
Bruno: I spoke with my contact at the Italian papers, and I can confirm that. He’s working with your enemy. It gives you grounds, Amadeo.
Me: He’s my uncle.
Bruno: Blood and loyalty do not always go hand in hand.
I know this.
Bruno: One more thing. Russo sent a message asking if $1500 is about right for ransom amount.
I burn at the casual mention of the hush money they intended to pay after he impregnated my fourteen-year-old sister and his bastard spawn killed her. I rein it all in. I must stay in control. It’s close now, the destruction of Lucien Russo. The erasure of the Russo family from this earth.
Me: Then he remembers us. Good.
Bruno: You don’t want the authorities involved, Amadeo. Not now. They’re in Sonny’s pocket.
I know that. And Sonny will make trouble. But I’m prepared.
Me: Let them get involved. I have a plan in place. You know that.
Bruno: Too soon for that, isn’t it?
Me: I’m flexible. Arrange a dinner tomorrow night. Very public. I want Sonny there. And his lovely wife.
She’s a cunt.
Bruno: Why? You go out in public, you risk arrest.
Me: I’ll be fine. Arrange it. And get the word out to anyone and everyone. That includes Chief Greco.
Greco is itching to take my brother and me down. He backs Sonny and is as corrupt as they come.
Bruno: Are you sure about this?
Me: Do it.
I scroll through to find Bastian’s number and text him.
Me: You up?
Bastian: It’s midnight. I’m not an old woman.
I smile as I tell him to meet me in the study. I tuck the phone away and take in the grand white house as the chopper comes in to land. I climb out, keeping my head low as I make my way to the back entrance of the house.
It’s a little after midnight. My mother will be in bed. Francesca as well. Bastian meets me at the library door.
“Did he talk?” he asks.
“With some encouragement.”
He grins.
“He gave Sonny up. In exchange for a bullet between his eyes.”
Bastian nods. We knew Sonny was involved in Angelo’s murder. As sick as it is to imagine.