He turns to me, his gray eyes piercing. “This is the f*****g underworld, Charlotte,” he says. “This ishow things are done. That rat knew the consequences of betraying the Family and he did it anyway.What kind of man would I be if I didn’t do what needed to be done? What kind of don would I be?”
Goosebumps prickle my skin, but I try not to let my body betray me. I’m pretty sure that if the molehad outed me, I wouldn’t be sitting here next to Lucio.
Or is this just another game? Like when he knew I went hunting in his office?
Is he setting me up?
I shudder. My fingers have never felt more precious to me. I tuck them between my thighs and try notto be too obvious about the fear brewing in my belly.
“Is he dead?” I ask.
My motives for asking are ninety-nine percent selfish.
But there’s
