Joey: A brother’s best friend, standalone dark mafia romance (Chicago Ruthless Book 2) -
Joey: Chapter 39
Kat pulls off her rubber gloves and tosses them into the trash. The surgeon left after half an hour because there was nothing for him to do. Kat Moretti is an excellent nurse and sews the neatest stitches I’ve ever seen. Uncle Vito lies on the bed in the center of the room, propped up by pillows. His eyes are closed, but he looks a damn sight better than he did three hours ago.
“How is he?” Dante asks her.
“He’s sleeping but not unconscious. There was nothing life-threatening. All the wounds are superficial and will heal with time. Except for his two toes and his pinky finger, obviously, which are missing. He’s also had a couple of back teeth pulled out. His missing digits were cauterized so there’s no infection, but we’ve given him some antibiotics anyway. He was mostly suffering from dehydration and exhaustion. We’ve given him plenty of fluids and some pain relief. Now he just needs to rest.”
Dante pulls his wife into his arms and gives her a soft kiss. “You are an angel, vita mia.”
“Hmm.” She eyes him suspiciously. “You’re not going to let him rest, are you?”
“Can he talk?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Then, no. He can’t rest yet.”
“Can you let Kristin know he’s okay but that she can’t see him yet?” I don’t know what Kat can say that won’t send my little sister into a panic, but I trust her.
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll make something up.”
“Thank you,” Dante says, releasing her from his embrace.
“Love you,” she whispers before she leaves the room. As soon as she’s gone, Lorenzo steps inside and closes the door behind him.
I wake my uncle up, and he stares at us, scratching his beard, his eyes darting between Lorenzo and Dante. He doesn’t want to be here as much as they don’t want him here.
“Why did the Russians take you? Was it something to do with the piece of shit who got Kristin pregnant?” I ask, ignoring the thick tension in the room. The sooner I get some answers as to where I fit into all this, the sooner Vito can leave and take his daughter with him. I’ve grown to care for Kristin, but her father is a snake and she’s convinced that he’s some fucking saint. Besides, she’ll be far safer away from here.
Vito snorts, and from the corner of my eye, I see Lorenzo’s hands ball into fists. “I have much better things to do with my time than try to get information from this piece of shit. If he’s not going to talk, shoot him in the fucking head and let’s get on with our day.”
“Lorenzo,” Dante says quietly, trying to defuse the palpable anger rolling off his brother. I can’t blame him though. Every minute he spends in this room is another minute he can’t spend with his wife.
“Talk, Vito,” I snap.
“You think I’d tell these two anything, Maximo? You know you can’t trust them, right? You know they’re just like their father was? Lowlife scum.” Vito spits onto the floor, and Lorenzo surges forward and smacks him across the face with the back of his hand, causing Vito’s head to snap backward. Blood pours from his mouth and he spits again.
I frown at Lorenzo. “Let me handle this, yeah?”
He glares at me, nostrils flaring, but he gives me a subtle nod and steps back to stand beside his brother.
I crouch down in front of my uncle until we’re eye to eye. “These men are my family, Vito. You ever disrespect them like that again and I will put a bullet in your head. Tell me what the fuck is going on here and I’ll let you walk out of here with your daughter. You’ll never have to see us again.”
Vito narrows his eyes at me like he’s trying to determine whether I’m telling the truth. “They know why Pushkin and his sick band of fucks took me.” He nods toward the brothers.
Dante glowers at him. “The fuck?”
I hold up my hand and let them know I’ll handle this. “What are you talking about? It was Pushkin who took you?”
“Yes, and they know why,” Vito insists.
Dante and Lorenzo shrug.
“They don’t, so you tell me.”
“They had no idea what their father did? They don’t know what I had on that sick fuck? You think I believe that?”
My head is starting to throb with the weight of unanswered questions. “Stop asking questions and tell me what the fuck is going on, Vito, or I swear to god I will fucking end you right here. I don’t give a fuck if it upsets your daughter.”
He sucks his lips into his mouth and draws a breath through his nose. “They came for me because Sal was dead. I’d have thought that was pretty obvious.”
My brow furrows. “Why is that obvious? You and Sal hated each other.”
Licking his lips, he flicks another glance at Dante and Lorenzo.
“Ignore them and answer my question,” I demand.
“I knew about it all. Everything he and the Russians were into. That was why Sal turned you against me and your mom. Because I threatened to expose him. So as soon as he was gone, those sick Russian fucks came after me.”
“He didn’t turn me against either of you. You both betrayed my father, and my mother walked out on me when shit got hard,” I remind him.
Dante puts a hand on my forearm and squeezes, reminding me that we have other priorities at the moment. “You knew about the trafficking?”
“All of it.” Vito scoffs. “I tried to tell your father, but he wouldn’t even listen to me. Sal had him brainwashed. Goddamn Moretti empire! Built on the sale of women and children. Sick fucks.”
“Not on our watch,” Lorenzo snaps. “That has never been our business, Vito.”
Vito shakes his head.
“It’s true,” I assure him, but his eyes remain clouded with suspicion and anger. “But why would Sal’s death make them come for you? Why didn’t Sal just kill you himself if you knew?”
“Oh, he wanted to. Threatened your mom and Kristin too, but I had something on him, didn’t I?”
“The trafficking?” I ask.
“No. I saw him kill that girl. I recorded it on my cell phone too,” Vito says with a flicker of a smile.
“The video recording you have? It was Sal killing someone? A girl?”
“The Delgado girl. He killed her. I know everyone thought she disappeared with that drug dealer she used to hang out with, but he killed her.”
The name hits me like a fist to the gut. Bile burns my throat, and I rock back on my heels. He knew too?
“You knew about that?” Dante asks.
“Yeah, I saw him.”
“But how?” I ask, my head spinning.
Dante squeezes my shoulder and steps in to take over. “What exactly did you see, Vito?”
“You expect me to believe you don’t know what happened? What he did to that girl?” Vito says with a sneer. “You two are just the same as he was.”
“No, we don’t fucking know. Now fucking tell me what you saw,” Dante says, his tone low and menacing.
“He was in his office. The Delgado girl —”
I cut in. “Her name was Fiona.” Her name has been burned into my brain for twelve long years.
“Fiona.” Vito nods. “She was in his office. He strangled her.”
Now Lorenzo gets involved. “And you saw this? You saw him kill her?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure that’s what you saw?” I ask.
Vito frowns at me. “Yes. He killed her, Maximo. I saw him. I have it all on video. That girl was dead. He strangled her.”
“And then he put her in my bed. He let me think I killed her.”
Lorenzo places his huge hands on my shoulders. “We knew this, Max. And you know he’s capable of way worse than framing someone for murder.”
“That twisted piece of shit killed her. And it looks like your precious Morettis made you believe you did it so you would stay loyal,” Vito shouts, his hands balled into fists. “And keep you away from your real family.”
“The fuck?” Dante shouts. “We had no fucking idea what our father had done. We are Max’s family. We are the only fucking family he needs.”
“The same family who made him believe he murdered an innocent girl for over a decade? You might not have been there when it happened, but you expect me to believe his own sons didn’t know what Sal did? You Morettis are all the fucking same.”
Dante lunges forward, grabbing Vito by the throat. Blood thunders in my ears, so I don’t register the heated exchange that ensues between the two men until Lorenzo shouts, “Enough!” so loudly that it cuts through the rest of the noise.
Dante releases his grip on Vito’s throat, and we all look at Lorenzo. “Salvatore Moretti might have sired us, but we are nothing like him. Maximo is as much my brother as my own fucking flesh and blood, and if you ever come into our house and disrespect my family’s name again, Vito, I will shoot you where you fucking stand. You got me?”
Vito’s nostrils flare as he glares at Lorenzo, but after a few seconds, he nods in defeat.
“What happened? You just watched him kill her?” I ask. “What were you even doing there?”
“I came to see you, Max. An old buddy of mine was on the gate, and he let me in. There was some kind of party, and I guess security was lax because I walked straight into the house. When I couldn’t replace you, I decided to confront Sal. He was in his office. The door was open, and he and the girl were arguing. She was threatening to expose him if he didn’t pay her to keep quiet. So I hung back and recorded the whole thing. She talked about seeing the warehouses. Said she knew what he and the Santangelos were doing. He laughed at her, and then his hands were on her throat—”
My stomach churns. “And you just stood there recording it? You did nothing to help her while you watched him kill her?”
“I was unarmed. If I’d tried to stop him, you think he would have spared either of us?”
What a fucking coward, trying to paint himself as the good guy when he watched a young girl’s murder and did nothing to stop it. “And then what you left? Or did you blackmail him?”
Vito stretches his neck. “As soon as she stopped struggling, Sal left her there and walked out of his office. I ducked out of sight, but ran to check for a pulse as soon as he was gone and—”
“Checked to see if she had any other evidence on her that you could use to blackmail him instead?” Dante accuses.
“No,” Vito insists. “I did what I did to protect myself and my daughter. I never wanted a penny of his filthy money.”
“What happened next, Vito?” I ask.
“I got out of there before he came back. I knew I had something big. Knew I could use it to protect me and Kristin. So, yeah, I blackmailed him. Told him if anything ever happened to me or my daughter that the recording would go to the press. You see, we never felt safe in Jersey. He was always letting us know he was watching us. He blamed me for your father’s death.”
“I really don’t give a fuck how bad you had it in Jersey, Vito.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I came back to see you, Max. To tell you about your sister. And I thought if I told you about the warehouses and the trafficking, then you’d see Salvatore for what he really was. Then when I saw him kill that girl … I would have told you about that too, but, well—you chose the Morettis. But I swear I had no idea what he’d done with that girl’s body, Maximo! If I’d known he framed you, I would’ve found a way to tell you. Hell, we were supposed to meet a few days after that, and I was gonna tell you about everything I knew then. But you chose Sal. You always chose Sal, just like your father did.”
I grind my teeth so hard, my jaw aches. Piece of shit trying to make me feel bad for my choices after everything he did. “I chose the Morettis because they’re my family, Vito, and they always will be.”
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