Angus chuckled as we sat, and the waiter poured. He made a point of picking up his glass, swooshing the dark red liquid around and inhaling before drawing a long sip.

“I’m still alive,” he said to her.

She still didn’t touch hers, but I picked mine up and sipped.

“My condolences, once again, Dominic. I hear your uncle passed not too gently last night.”

“He was a liar and a traitor. He got what liars and traitors get.”

He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. “You’re as direct as your father.”

“You did some business with my uncle?” I asked.

“He and my nephew were involved in some things,” he said, his eyes catching Gia’s as he sipped.

I felt Gia tense beside me.

“Where is Victor?” she asked.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to invite him, considering.”

“Can we just cut this bullshit?” she spat out. “You talk like we’re all here having a friendly drink, but we’re not.”

I smiled. “She’s direct too.”

“You’ve changed, my dear,” he said to her.

“You’ve opened my eyes,” she replied.

Angus snapped his fingers, and we looked up. A door opened, and two men walked in, Victor between them. He wasn’t quite standing on his own. Instead, he was hunched over their shoulders and being kept upright, his head lolling from side to side, his face bruised, his feet dragging as they walked forward.

Gia gasped. I held her hand under the table.

“My nephew made some poor choices,” Angus said. “Concerning what happened to your brother, Gianna, you have my apology. And you’ll have Victor’s, well, you would except that he can’t really talk at the moment.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Gia said.

“No, you’re not,” I told her.

“Not woman’s work, this, is it?” Angus remarked. “Gianna, in an effort to make amends for what my nephew did to your brother, I’d like to offer you a gift. Would you like Victor’s tongue?”

“You…you’re sick!”

“No, only a man who punishes liars and traitors. You see, Victor thought it would be a good idea to try to save his neck by sliding a noose over mine.” Angus’ face changed, a look of disgust crossing it. “I don’t like federal agents on my doorstep. Family business is family business, isn’t it, boy?”

Victor’s only response was to grunt when one of the men beside him jabbed his elbow into his ribs, which I assumed were broken. At least, considering the bruising on every visible part of him, I imagined they must be.

“I know it was you. I know Victor was no more than your foot soldier,” Gia said.

“You know nothing.”