Dante looks at me quietly, trying to decide if he should say anything else. He returns to the scattered papers instead.

“Is that a vault?” he says, pointing to the topmost diagram.

“Clearly.”

“Why do you have the schematics for a vault?”

“Is it obvious question day?” I ask him.

Dante gives a long sigh. Since his lungs are like bellows, it blows several papers off the table.

“Does Papa know about this?” he says.

“No. You know Doctor Bernelli says stress is bad for his heart. I was planning to tell him afterward.”

My father is currently out on the back nine with Angelo Marino, the head of the second-largest Italian family in Chicago. Papa hates golfing, but he’s supposed to be getting more exercise. Marino has lured him out with promises of clubhouse BLTs and pretty waitresses. In return, Marino gets to talk Papa’s ear off about how his four worthless sons can advance inside of the organization.

Papa won’t be home for hours, which means I can work uninterrupted. Other than Dante, of course.

Dante is silently looking over the blueprints, his dark eyes darting from page to page.

“This is Page’s bank,” he says quietly.

“Guessed it first try.”

“You’re planning to rob him?”

“Not him, exactly. Just whoever keeps their money at his bank.”

“You know he deals with some serious people. You’re not stealing from a bunch of doctors and lawyers.”

“That’s why I’m going to keep this one anonymous. I won’t leave a business card like I usually would.”

Dante doesn’t crack a smile.

“Raymond’s no bureaucrat,” he says. “He gets his hands dirty.”

“Dante,” I scowl. “Are we the baddest motherfuckers in the city or not? I’m not scared of Raymond Page. Or anybody else who keeps an account there.”

Dante thinks, silently.

“What’s the take?” he says at last.

“Substantial. Eight figures. And that’s not including the Winter Diamond. I think Kristoff stashed it in the vault. Nobody knows except me.”

The St. Petersburg Bratva liberated that particular gem from the Imperial collection at the Hermitage Museum, eight years ago. I don’t know if Kristoff bought it or stole it from his brothers. But I guarantee if the other Bratva knew where it was, they wouldn’t leave it in Raymond’s hands for long.

The diamond alone is probably worth fifty million to the right buyer.

“One score. And we can fund our entire project on the South Shore.”

Dante shakes his head slowly. “That’s risky,” he says.

“Large-scale construction is one of the best ways to wash dirty money,” I say. “The Russians do it all the time.”

“You could make a lot of enemies.”

“Only if I get caught.” I grin. “Besides, we’re hardly swimming in friends right now. How much worse can it get? We’ll still have the Griffins on our side. As long as we leave their lock-box alone.”

“You’re not going to bring them in on it?”

I shake my head.

“I don’t think they’re into breaking the law in person anymore. They’ve got an image to maintain.”

“Not you, though.” Dante smiles.

“No. My reputation is about as bad as it can get.”

Dante looks over my papers again. I don’t interrupt him—there’s no point trying to rush my brother. He likes to think things over.

But his thoroughness extends further than my patience. Eventually, I say, “So, are you in?”

“No,” Dante says.

“Why the fuck not?”

He crosses his arms over his massive chest.

“Because you’re going behind Papa’s back.”

“I told you, I don’t want to raise his blood pressure.”

“Bullshit. You know he wouldn’t like it. He’d say it’s too risky.”

“Neither one of you cared about that when we knocked over all those armored trucks.”

“That was different.” Dante frowns. “We needed the money back then.”

“We need money now!”

“No we don’t. We can get it another way. Take on partners—”

“I don’t want more partners!”

“You’re reckless.”

“And you’ve lost your nerve!” I shout. “What happened to you? You used to love a challenge.”

Dante looks truly angry now. It takes a lot to light his fuse. But once you do, there’s a whole lot of dynamite behind it. He clenches his jaw, biting back what he actually wants to say.

“I used to make a lot of stupid decisions,” he growls. “Then I grew up.”

I don’t have the same self-control as Dante. I’ve fully lost my temper.

“You just don’t like that all this is my idea,” I spit. “You want to be the boss forever.”

“I don’t give a fuck about being boss,” Dante growls, turning away from me. “I wish you were mature enough to take over.”

With that, he stalks out of the dining room, heading to the back of the house to his bedroom.

“Yeah, go take a shower!” I shout after him. “You fucking stink!”

It’s not very satisfying being left all alone with my scattered papers.

But I don’t give a damn what Dante says. I’m going to do this job, and I’m going to pull it off brilliantly. I’ll sink every penny into the South Shore and triple our empire over the next five years. I’ll take us from mafia kingpins to one of the wealthiest families in the whole damn country.

The Griffins aren’t the only ones with ambition.

I may have a temper, but I’ve got intelligence and vision, too.

I’m going to make this happen.

And nothing will stand in my way.

17

Camille

I have to see Levi again, because I’ve got to give him the cash for that bag of Molly I was supposed to sell. Also, much as I’d like to avoid it, I need to see Bella Page.

I figured out how I can confirm if Raymond is actually Vic’s father. At first, I thought I’d need to steal his empty coffee cup or chewed-up gum. I can’t pull a hair out of his head, because the guy is bald as an egg and I doubt his security guards are going to let me get within ten feet of him again.

But then I realized that I don’t have to test Raymond’s DNA. I’ve got the next best thing—his daughter.

Of course, I doubt Bella’s gonna want to spit in a tube for me. But if I can get her at a vulnerable moment . . . I’m sure I can come up with something.

Then there’s the other person I’m both hoping and dreading seeing . . . Nero.

Just thinking about him makes my heart race.

I want to see him again. I just do. It’s stupid, and I hate admitting it, but I can’t help the way I feel.

I call Patricia to see if Levi’s throwing any more parties in the near future.

“Not that I know of,” she says. “But everybody’s going to some bonfire on the beach tonight.”