Chapter 19

The funeral’s tasteful. All the Bianco guys show up for their fallen soldier, even the high-ranking Capos and their important lieutenants. The church is packed shoulder to shoulder with mafia enforcers and merciless killers, and when Matty’s father gets up at that podium and gives the eulogy, there’s not a single dry eye in the whole place. Seasoned, hardened murders pretend like it’s just dust and allergies.

Elena leans against my arm at the cemetery. She’s crying, but not like she did when she first found out, not the body-wracking, bone-shaking sobs that looked like they might rip her in half. No, this is a quiet kind of mourning, the sort of mourning that comes after the shock wears off and only a deep, dark hole’s left over.

I know a little bit about mourning.

My father died on a Tuesday. He’d been up the night before dealing with some organization shit, but even though he only got a few hours’ sleep, he still rose with the sun and got back to work. That was how my old man operated. The business came before everything else, and he constantly instilled that into his children.

Mom said it happened fast. I don’t know because I wasn’t there. But one second Dad was in his office, and the next Mom was giving him CPR and the ambulances were screaming into the driveway, and there was the hospital, the bad news, the cold sheen of his quiet skin when I went to say goodbye after he had already left.

The days after are a blur now. Mostly I remember Mom crying the way Elena had, except Mom kept on going, day after day, sobbing like she was going to fall apart because she lost her partner, the only man she’d ever known and loved. It took her a year before she reached the quiet part.

It took us all a while to face the world without Dad.

Now Matty’s family was doing the same thing. They were coming to grips with a life without his voice, without his laughter, without his presence at the dinner table. Elena liked him, but she didn’t love him. They were friends, but they weren’t family. Her mourning will fade, but that father may never get over the loss of his son.

“I hate these things,” Elena says as the funeral breaks up. She stands beneath an oak tree and watches everyone leave, her head on my shoulder, my arm holding her against me. “Everyone shows up and says all the right things but it doesn’t really help. Matty’s poor mother looks like she’s going to pass out.”

“She’ll probably look like that for a while.” I track the woman as she walks slowly toward the procession of cars. Simon’s at her elbow along with his wife, Emily, and Matty’s father. They’re speaking in low tones, and I’m guessing Simon’s letting them know that he’ll take care of them for the rest of their lives. That’s what I’d do, at least.

“You want to hear something selfish and terrible?” She’s crying again when she looks at me. “When Simon said it was Matty, my first thought was, okay, good, at least it isn’t Davide. Isn’t that fucked?”

“No, it’s not. There’s no right way to react when you find out someone you care about is dead.” It’s strange, talking about another man like this, but he’s gone. If he were still living, my jealousy might rear its head. But now? After all this? I’d have to be a monster to still hold onto that. My wife’s grieving. She needs support, not a possessive asshole.

“I guess you’re right. It still fucks me up, you know?” She blinks a few times. Elena rarely curses, but when she does, I know she means it. “All these people dying. We lost so many when Santoro attacked, and now—” She shakes her head. “I hate this war.”

I stare at her and a sudden, overwhelming desire rushes over me. I joined this family because Simon wants to use my deep contacts at the CPD to help with their war—I know that, he wasn’t subtle about it—but I never planned on getting involved. Let the Biancos handle their own business. I’ll provide some help, but nothing else.

Now, I’d do anything to make sure Elena never has to cry at another funeral again.

Which means hunting down Luciano Santoro and killing him.

This isn’t my war. I’d be an idiot to involve my people even more than I already have.

But I can’t stop these feelings. I want to protect her from this pain, and there’s one easy way to make sure nobody else dies.

That’s to end the war.

Except it’s a risk to my own family.

Fuck, I could go around and around like this forever, with no end in sight.

“What if I committed more resources?” I ask her very softly. I spot Davide and Stefania walking toward us.

Elena stares up at me. “What do you mean?”

“To the war. To fight alongside your brothers.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

I slip my hand into hers. “None of this was part of the deal, but here we are.”

She doesn’t say anything and Stefania comes over to give her a hug before we can talk about it more. I shake Davide’s hand and offer condolences, and the big man only grunts in reply, rubbing at his burn-scarred wrist.

Stefania steers Elena toward the cars. I hang back with her brother and we walk side by side, my hands shoved in my pockets. Davide’s watching his wife with a strange expression like he’s worried about letting her out of his sight.

“If I were to do something to help the war effort, what would you need?”

Davide’s head tilts in my direction, but his gaze remains fixed on Stefania. “You should talk to Simon about that.”

“I don’t want to negotiate. I want to help. And you’re the one who runs the operations.”

He grunts and glances over, frowning. “Did Elena put you up to this?”

“I think she was about to talk me out of it.”

“Smart girl. You have no reason to risk any of your lives to fight our battles.”

I stop walking and face him. Davide lingers, a curious frown on his lips. “I’m a part of this family now too, and this war effects everyone.” I glance at Elena then back at Davide. “I want it to be over as much as you do.”

A little smirk. “I doubt that, but I appreciate the thought.”

“What can I do?”

“It always comes down to guns, money, and manpower.” He slaps my arm and starts walking again. “But I can’t offer you anything in return. You really should talk to Simon.”

“Keep me in the loop moving forward. My organization isn’t as deep or as big as yours, but we have people on the street that can provide support.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” He seems thoughtful. “I’m guessing things with my sister are going well.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“What would you say then?”

“She’s my wife and I don’t like seeing her upset. It’s also in my best interests to make sure this fighting’s over. I guess you could say I have my reasons.”

He squints and shades his eyes as we stop at the cars. Stefania climbs into a black truck and Elena lingers next to it, waiting for me. “Tell you what. Take a day or two and think it over. Let my sister try to talk you out of it. But if you still want to commit your organization to real fighting, we’ll talk.”

“Then we’ll talk soon.”

He grunts and shakes my hand, looking amused, and walks off to join his wife.

Elena comes over and we walk to my car. “What were you two talking about?”

“I was just offering him my support.”

She sighs and rubs her forehead. “Brody⁠—”

“I don’t want to hear you try to talk me out of this. I know what it would mean if my family got more involved in the fighting.”

She hesitates and puts a hand on my arm. “You don’t have to do this for me. It’s okay that I’m upset.”

“You’re right, it’s okay, but if I can avoid you getting upset again—” I stop there because I don’t want to reveal just how much this matters to me. “Just trust me when I say that it’s in everyone’s best interests if my people provide more support to your brothers.”

“I doubt that,” she says softly and climbs into my truck, not looking at me. I’m not sure why she seems upset, but it doesn’t matter.

The Quinn clan’s going to war for the first time in their history.