“He wasn’t giving her any of the money. But I overlooked it all.” My stomach twisted as shame reared its ugly head.

Tex reached up and touched my shoulder. I normally hated being touched so much, especially when I was forced to go through my own emotions but Tex’s hand was like a warm blanket.

“After a few months of being together, he started disappearing at random times. I didn’t think much of it. I only visited the hotel once or twice a week.” Looking back on it, there were a lot of signs I should have noticed. “However, I slowed down on how much I was giving him. He was going to overdose if he kept it up. Brycen had sworn to me he was going to get help and slow down. But that never happened. Instead, he started meeting up with the cops.”

Tex stiffened under me one more. This time, I attempted to comfort him in the same way he’d done me. I had no idea if I was doing it right.

“He sold intel on my family, but with me keeping him at the hotel, he didn’t have nearly enough info to keep up with his drug habits. We nearly had New York locked down. All of sudden cops were busting businesses down, storming in on shipments. Things were going bad and fast.” I pressed my face against his neck and took in another deep breath. “We were in constant shootouts with the NYPD and other families.” We’d lost so much and couldn’t find out where it was coming from.

History is trying to repeat itself, but it isn’t Tex. I knew down to my soul that he wasn’t the reason for any of the shit happening. He wasn’t Brycen.

“I wasn’t the only Vitale he was seeing.”

“The fuck?” Tex shouted.

I cocked a brow at his visible anger. Is he mad at me?

“So not only was he a rat, he was a cheating piece of shit too?”

Laughter tumbled free, and I hid my face as I tried to gather myself. When was the last time I laughed with someone besides my brothers?

“Yes, but to be fair, we’d never said that we were together. I’d assumed him staying meant he was fine with being mine.”

“How did you find out it was him?” Tex asked.

Anger rolled through me, remembering all the blood and the pain. “He shot my brother.”

“What?” Tex attempted to sit up, but I forced him back down.

I never wanted to see Benito drained of color or sweating in pain another day in my life.

“Is he… is he alive?” Tex asked.