Code of Silence: Cosa Nostra #2 by Jasmine Denton, Genna Denton

hand. His eyes glimmered with pride. “You saved me.”
    She felt her anger melt with his touch. As much as she wanted to hold onto it, she couldn’t. Sliding over to him, she curled up under his arm as he drove. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
    The nearest airport was thirty miles away. They made it before the sun reached its peak in the sky. They bought tickets for the first flight out—to Chicago. There would be plenty of busses they could choose from there.
     
    As Bela was leaving the bathroom, a cold hand covered her mouth. Bela’s body went stiff with fear and dread as Rafe’s smooth, threatening voice said into her ear, “If you try to scream or signal for help, Vincent dies. Understand?”
    She nodded.
    Slowly, Rafe removed his hand from her mouth and grabbed her arm instead. “Sorry, princess,” he said as he began to lead her way. “Everyone wants happily ever after, but we had a deal. No one breaks a deal with me.”

15
    Untouchable?
     
     
    Trey was standing in front of the yellow rose bush when his father stepped out onto the patio.
    “Is it done?” Sal asked.
    “Do you remember when we got these?” Trey asked, ignoring his father’s question.
    It was a quiet night, especially a New York summer night. Only the sounds of a few cars, some distant traffic. A frog croaked somewhere in the garden, a low throaty sound.
    “The roses?” Sal asked. “No.”
    “Mom did it,” he said. “With her own two hands. It was the summer I was…thirteen, I think. She had me help—I didn’t want to, it was too girly, but she made me. The thorns cut my hands all to hell.”
    “Sounds like her.”
    “She loved yellow roses. Said they could brighten up any room, no matter how dark it was.”
    “That’s right,” Sal said. “She did love them.”
    “And I loved her,” he said, turning to his father. “So why’d you have her killed?”
    Something in Sal’s dark eyes flickered—the smallest signs of admission. His lips tried to spin a different story. “How can you even ask me that? You know I would never—”
    “Don’t lie to me, Dad,” he said, shaking his head. “Not anymore.”
    “Did Bela fill your head with this?” he asked. “You know that Marcano kid’s poisoned her against us. You can’t trust a word that comes out of her mouth anymore.”
    “I think you’re the one I can’t trust.” Trey took a step closer to his dad, holding his arms out to gesture around them. “It’s just you and me out here, Dad. No one to impress, no one to fool. You can tell me the truth. Why’d you do it?”
    It seemed like Sal waited an eternity before he said, “She made a fool out of me.”
    Trey felt a knot drop into the pit of his stomach. He’d suspected Bela’s accusation was true, he’d even assumed it was, but for most of this conversation he’d been bluffing. Hearing his father admit to it—admit to why—sealed his rage. Now he knew there was no going back. No chance of recapturing that blissfully ignorant period where he idolized his father and obeyed every command. “You son of a bitch,” he whispered.
    “Excuse me?”
    “I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked me to do,” he said, his tone full of hatred. “Everything! And you were lying to me the entire time.”
    “Trey—”
    “Save your breath,” he said. “I’m not listening.”
    “You will listen,” Sal said. “Like it or not, you’re my son. You can’t change that. As long as I live, you’ll answer to me. It’d serve you well to just get past this now.”
    As his dad spoke, Trey felt something inside him snap. Whatever moral compass he used to possess was now gone. Vanished. Leaving only the cold-blooded mobster so many people feared. Reaching behind his back, he pulled his gun out of his holster. “Maybe you shouldn’t live any longer.”
    “You’re not going to shoot me,” Sal said without even flinching. “You don’t have it in you.”
    “Are you sure?” Trey looked down at the gun