Elect

Chapter Forty-seven Chase

Phoenix nudged me in the back with his gun. Holy shit. I would kill him. End him. If he as much as sneezed on my back. I walked in front of him and opened the door to the house.

Tony was standing in the living room, smoking his usual cigar and looking out the window.

“Ah, you’ve made it.”

“Nice greeting,” I said dryly. “Can you please call Phoenix off of me before I put a bullet in his head?”

Tony nodded and Phoenix backed off, walking over to Tony and slapping him on the back. “See how easy this was?”

“Easy?” I repeated.

“He needed money.” Tony shrugged. “How would it look if our family simply gave the De Langes ten million dollars? It would look like a handout. Besides, I need Phoenix to be silent, and we’ve come to a sort of agreement. I pay him to keep my secrets and he finishes the business I don’t wish to finish.”

“What business?” Dread pooled in my stomach.

Tony puffed on his cigar. “You and a few others…”

I opened my mouth to speak when all of a sudden I heard a whimper. I walked farther into the living room. My eyes fell on the couch.

Mo, Mil, and Trace were sitting there. Hands tied behind their backs and duct tape over their mouths.

“You sick son of a bitch!”

“Kids!” Tony spat. “You’re all children! Did you think this was a game? Did you think I was working underneath a child for the past four years to simply hand over all the power I’ve had? Do you think I like having to listen to a child order me around as if I was nothing? A child that did not even deserve to be boss in the first place! Blood relation, Chase! You are the blood relation!”

“I know,” I mumbled. “That doesn’t mean you needed to kill Nixon. Your actual son, you dirty bastard.”

“Lucky for me, I did not have to. I simply provided the information to the Nicolosi family. I knew they would not be pleased that their golden family, the chosen Abandonatos, were falling apart at the seams all because they could not let go of the past.”

“Let go of the past?” I stepped closer to the couch. “Calling the kettle a bit black, aren’t you? Considering you killed Trace’s parents in cold blood and set up your own family to take the fall.”

“He deserved death and much worse.” Tony puffed on his cigar again and looked out the window. “He was weak so he beat on his wife. But she loved me. We loved one another; she was going to leave him and he—”

“Killed her,” I finished. “And my mother?”

Tony laughed. “The stupid bitch found out about my affair, went to Nixon’s father and had her own little affair; only she never loved him. When he discovered she was using him, he had the Nicolosi family take care of her for him… didn’t want her blood on his hands. Though he wasn’t opposed to take his own wife’s blood—or even a boy who wasn’t his son. Perhaps that’s why he kept her alive so long? He wanted to watch her suffer, wanted to watch his bastard son suffer while his mother was beaten.”

I stole a glance at Trace. Her nostrils flared. Damn, in the past five minutes she had gone from looking terrified to completely pissed.

“So…” I moved closer, into the room. “Why kill Trace’s parents? They weren’t involved in your little melodrama.”

“Mario, Tracey’s father—he discovered us one evening. Said his loyalty was to the Alfero and Abandonato family. He was going to ruin everything.”

“So you eliminated him, and pointed at the one man everyone would suspect.” I shook my head in disgust. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

Tony threw his cigar into the nearby fireplace and stalked toward me. “I survive! I keep the family together! I may be heartless but at least I know what it costs to keep our blood strong!”

He stopped directly in front of me, his chest heaving.

I shook my head. “You. Are. Nothing.”

His fist flew across my jaw. I knew he was going to hit me, so I let him. The minute I fell to the ground I scooted away from him like I was afraid and dug a knife from my pocket.

“And I’m pathetic,” Tony snorted. “Yet you crawl away from me like a little bitch. At least Nixon died with honor, whereas you—” He reached for his gun. “You’ll die shaming everyone.”

Ignoring him and his raised gun, I slid my knife underneath the first pair of feet I touched and then quickly slipped my hands away.