Page 5 of Power & Punishment

“I didn’t—never mind. Why didn’t anyone reach out when I moved back to New York?”

The tiniest crack ripples across Dante’s face, but he reels it in quickly. “Would you have wanted us to? As soon as you got the key to your cage, you ran far, far away without so much as a goodbye. You got your point across.”

The first sting of regret singes the corners of my mind. Vince didn’t let me say goodbye to Dante even though I wanted to. Vince knew Dante wouldn’t have let me leave without a fight. He was always the protective older brother who held on way too tight. He was loyal to a fault and took family seriously. It’s why he thrived in this world.

“I left a note,” I say, biting my lip.

Dante lets out a bitter laugh and pushes his cigarette into the obsidian ashtray on his desk. “Yes, you left a note. A measly piece of paper, Mia. There was no conversation. No warning. Vince didn’t say a damn word for two days after reading it. I thought you broke him.”

More guilt twists inside my stomach, making a home there. I look down at my hands, too ashamed to look at my last living family member. I’m about to tell him it was Vince’s idea for me to leave like that, but it’s no use now. It won’t make anything better or bring him back.

“I didn’t think anyone would care,” I lie, my voice cracking.

Dante scoffs, pushing the knife in deeper. “That’s bullshit and you know it. If you wanted someone to feed you lies to make you feel better, then you’re shit out of luck. Vince isn’t here to do that anymore.”

Now that cuts deep. Too deep for my liking. “I needed out, Dante. I couldn’t stop having nightmares about dad. I was going insane here. And now…Vince.”

“I know,” he mumbles, turning his own gaze to the horrendously patterned carpet, “but you’re back now whether you like it or not and you’re going to help me find out who killed Vince.”

“What?” I say, snapping my eyes to his.

“Did you really think his body being moved into your jurisdiction was a coincidence?”

“You know interfering with a crime scene is a felony, right? If they find your fingerprints, you’re screwed, and there’s nothing I can do to protect you.”

Dante shrugs, rolling his head to the side. “They won’t find any prints,” he says confidently.

The certainty in his voice should make me feel calm, but instead it sends a prickly sensation up and down my back. If forensics did find Dante’s prints, he’d already be in custody.

“Fine. Can you at least tell me where Vince was shot? Finding the crime scene will help us catch the killer.”

“You know I can’t do that, Mia.” He sighs, tapping his fingers against the metal desk. “If this is connected to who I think it is, they’ll know I snitched.”

“Who do you think this is connected to?” I ask, leaning forward and placing my hands against the cold, hard surface.

He locks his jaw. “You need to be smart about this. I have eyes on me right now and if I tell you too much, it’s going to get me killed. You know how this world works.”

I nod slowly. Silence falls around us as I think. I can’t leave here empty-handed, especially with the bastard placing such a heavy task on my shoulders. “Then help me without saying anything you can’t.”

Dante lets out a humorless laugh, making me clench my fists. “We’re not playing charades here, Sis.”

“Dante,” I say, grinding my teeth together as I hold his gaze.

He squares his shoulders, sitting forward in his chair. “Vince had a meeting the night he died. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it or who it was with. He left here around ten and that’s—that’s the last time I saw him.”

I grip the edge of my seat. His eyes sink to the ground, causing a tightness to wind up in my chest. “I found a valet ticket on him from Ristorante Ottaviani. Does that sound familiar?”

Just when I think his body can’t get any stiffer, he proves me wrong. From this angle it looks like a vein is about to pop on the side of his neck. “Fuck, Mia. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I can’t⁠—”

“Stop. I’m doing this. If this does end up being connected to them, I’m going to see it through. I couldn’t do anything when we were kids, but maybe I can now.”

Now there’s no doubt in my mind that this is connected to the Carusos, and judging by the speckle of fear in Dante’s eyes, they must be even more dangerous than they were when I was a kid. We never found out who killed our dad, but we always suspected it had something to do with their family.

For years, the Carusos pushed my family to fold into their business and be absorbed into a bigger outfit until one day those silly threats carried real weight none of us were brave enough to call out. The police didn’t care either. They never did in this neighborhood.

But now I have a chance to change that.

Even if I only get to take one of these bastards down, it will help numb the quiet vengeance raging under years of silence.