Page 40 of Brando
He looks at me in confusion. Just two days ago, we’d been destroying the Maltese stronghold, annihilating everything in sight. And now we were planning to enlist their help?
“They can’t be trusted, Brando.” His warning wraps around me like a thin blanket. We’ve always known the Maltese cannot be trusted, but they, like any other organization, want to belong. And Scar is the master negotiator amongst us. I know he’llsweeten the pot enough for them to start talking and give us what we need.
“We’re meeting them tomorrow, Mason. You need to go home and sober up, otherwise I cut you out.”
Mason stumbles off his stool and tries to straighten, almost falling off his feet. The man is way past drunk, and I can understand why. Just the thought of not seeing the woman I now know to be his daughter would have done that to him.
“Need a shower,” he slurs, as he turns and heads for the door.
“Come on, Mason,” I sigh, holding him under the arm as we leave the bar and I lead him to my waiting car. “You need more than a shower.”
21
BRANDO
My brothers and I, we don’t do so well in public settings. Especially those where we have to wear a bow tie and there’s not much bloodshed going on. My silhouette cuts through clusters of opulence, my steps measured amidst the gala's pulsing heart. Shadows cling to me like old friends as I navigate the sea of false and familiar faces. My jaw tightens, a silent war raging behind my calm exterior as each stride brings me closer to Mia.
I know she’s here somewhere. The Maltese have done us a solid and let us know that Frank will be here tonight. So, we’ve come prepared. Although there’s not much we can do at a charity gala event where so many high-profile public faces gather. It’s not the thirties, and we can’t just storm the event and demand what we came here for.
When a Gatti walks into a room, the air shifts and his presence is felt, but when the four of us enter, it’s like the world stops spinning and all eyes turn to us. We follow Scar’s lead, as casual as possible, as we enter the ballroom and circulate amongst the guests, blending in seamlessly.
Someone calls my name, but I’m immune to anything and everything as I focus on my end goal. I don’t stop for anything; Lucky trails my path, my constant companion as he reads the storm brewing in the subtle clench of my fists.
I’ve spent the whole night looking for Mia, knowing that she’s here. And then, there she is—her hand resting on Frank's arm, a gesture as deceptive as the peace between mob families. The space between us closes, anticipation crackling in the air like static before a storm.
As though she senses my presence, she turns and meets my eyes. Time fractures, seconds stretching into infinity. In that look, words are unnecessary, redundant. Her ice blue eyes speak; they speak of a bond that not even blood feuds could erase.
My breath hitches, the world narrowing to the expanse of silence we share. A thousand emotions flicker in Mia's gaze—longing, apology, defiance. It is all there, written in the depths of her irises.
“Brando?” Lucky's voice is a distant anchor to reality.
I nod, barely acknowledging my brother, my attention tethered to Mia. We stand, frozen in time, knowing that some connections run deeper than duty, darker than any vendetta.
Her lips part, a slight tremor betraying her composure. No words come, yet everything is said in the small part of her lips. I draw nearer, the magnetic pull of our shared past binding us in a way that most people never get to live.
Frank's voice slices through the electric silence, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he steps into the space between me and Mia.
“Brando Gatti, the Silent Storm himself. How good to finally run into you, old friend.”
Frank stands too close, his body language a deliberate provocation daring me to make a move. Menace clings to his words; it spills from every one of his pores, poisoning the room.
My jaw tightens, but I don’t let his goading compel me to do something I’ll regret. “Frank, the city thrived in your absence.”
He should have stayed away. Should have stayed away from the city and away from me. Because now that he’s in my crosshairs, I will not stop until I annihilate and flatten him the same way I did the Scarfones.
A ripple of hushed murmurs moves through the crowd, nearby guests drawn to the tension that crackles like a live wire between us. Eyes dart back and forth, sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Your presence here is unexpected,” Frank continues, although his relaxed demeanor tells me he was counting on me being here tonight. “Or perhaps desperate?”
“Desperation is a trait I leave to those who need it,” I reply.
“Still clinging to the shadows, I see,” Frank taunts, leaning in closer. “Still skulking after what you can’t have.” He narrows his eyes in Mia’s direction then smiles, before he pulls her to him, a hand weaving around her waist. She almost stumbles as she’s dragged into him, fixing doe eyes on Frank as her anger simmers beneath the surface and she squirms in his hold.
My fists curl at my sides, the white of my knuckles a stark contrast against the dark fabric of my suit. My restraint is quickly fraying as a storm rages within me.
“Gentlemen…”
Scar’s voice breaks the tension as he steps up beside me, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. There’s a long moment of tense silence, before conversations start again, and Scar steps forward, darting his steely eyes between me and Frank, daring us to misbehave.