Inferno(45)

‘Relax.’ Another beat under that azure gaze. ‘It’s going to be OK.’

I believed him, that’s the strange thing. He was earnest, at least in that moment, and I remembered the last proper words I had spoken to him. He’s broken. You all are. It occurred to me, as I quivered in someone else’s blood, that I had walked myself into danger for the shred of hope I had for an uncle I wished would change but never would, and I realized we were both broken, he and I. We were a couple of fractured lines, running parallel to one another, stuck in families that wouldn’t ever truly let us go. And I was sorry for hurting him.

‘OK,’ I said quietly. Millie didn’t say anything, but I could feel her shaking beside me, trying to hold on to herself. ‘We’ll stay here.’

Luca stalked into the room while Millie and I hovered outside the doorway, teetering alien-like on the edge of something we were caught up in but not a part of.

The brothers crossed the room and rounded the couch. Valentino was still staring at the headline. It had changed:

DONATA MARINO TAKEN INTO CUSTODY.

MORE TO COME.

Luca clapped his hands on the younger boys’ shoulders. ‘Questo è un giorno triste,’ he said softly. His face clouded and for the first time I could see grief creeping to the surface. The boys looked up at him, their eyes shimmering. A moment passed between them and I got the overwhelming sense that to these kids, Luca was someone important. And not just in the Mafia sense.

Nic bent down beside CJ. His voice was hard. ‘We will have our revenge.’

Without lifting his eyes from the floor, CJ nodded.

Luca dragged his brother upright by the back of his neck. ‘Can’t we have one moment of peace, Nicoli?’

‘This is not a time for peace. It’s not what’s best.’

‘And what’s best for Sal and Aldo?’ asked Luca. ‘Sono bambini.’

The youngest boy blinked his big eyes. ‘Me and Sal aren’t babies,’ he said, affronted. ‘We want to talk about revenge.’

I glanced sidelong at Millie, our faces screwing up with matching levels of shock. We had never heard a child talk like that. Not even in movies. It was jarring, and yet in that room just then it seemed so … casual.

Sal didn’t look as convinced as Aldo. His face was blotchy with his tears and his lip was quivering violently.

‘You see?’ said Nic to Luca. ‘This is what’s best.’

Luca shook his head.

Valentino pulled his attention from the news. They were showing footage of the club exterior now. There were fire trucks and ambulances on the scene. Onlookers had gathered around it and the front entrance was cordoned off with police tape.

He turned to his brothers. ‘Can you two stop arguing? I’m trying to find out what happened.’

‘We know what happened,’ said Nic. ‘We were there.’

Valentino rounded on his brothers. He pulled his hands from the wheels of his chair and cracked his knuckles. ‘Oh, you were?’ he asked, his voice acidic. ‘Then maybe you can tell me how you screwed up so spectacularly and managed to get one of our finest members killed in action? Maybe you can tell me how you marched into that club with a contact already on the inside, the element of surprise on your side and five armed assassins, and still somehow failed to kill a sitting duck?’

‘They were armed!’ Nic said. ‘There were too many people in the way and Calvino went back for Jack after we pulled out. What could I do about that?’

‘You could have gone for Donata!’ Valentino snapped. ‘You had them in the palm of your hand and they both got away!’

Nic’s anger rose to match his brother’s. ‘You don’t know what it was like, Valentino. You weren’t there.’

‘It’s not my job to be there! It’s your job!’ Valentino clasped his hands around the arms of his chair and hoisted himself up, balancing on his good leg so he could be closer to Nic. I was surprised by how tall he was. He jabbed his brother’s chest. ‘You said it would work. You cased the place. We put our trust in your intel and it failed. You’ve made me look weak, Nic. Un pazzo incompetente!’

‘You’re not a fool, Valentino.’

‘Tell that to the Marinos!’ he hissed.

Nic lifted his chin and, defiantly, he said, ‘We’re still stronger than them.’

‘Are we?’ Valentino’s voice fell deathly quiet. He bared his teeth, sharp canines ripping into a savage smile with no mirth. ‘What makes you so sure, brother? We don’t know what Jack Gracewell traded for their protection. We don’t know what weapons Donata Marino has.’