Page 84 of Venomous Throne

“Johnny, have you had supper?” I called out, my voice carrying over the noise.

The men grew quieter, all eyes on me.

“No, signora.” Johnny smirked. “But it sure smells good. Vincenzo’s cooking again?”

“Roast and veggies,” I replied, going to the counter where the food was lined up buffet-style.

Once the plate was piled high—and I mercifully managed not to drop the damn thing—I brought it back.

“Wine?” I asked.

“Please,” he beamed.

I snapped my fingers. A soldier could do that.

“Thank you for your hospitality, signora,” Johnny said before stuffing his maw with a bite.

The moment Johnny’s Adam’s apple bobbed beneath his stubble and the first mouthful of food vanished, I pounced. There wasn’t even the pretense of hospitality left, just cold calculation.

My voice cut across the table like a straight razor. “You’re going to tell me what you’re doing here, and if I like your answer, I’ll let you keep breathing.”

The steel of my pistol caught the overhead light—a brutal punctuation.

It made the bastard laugh.

Not a nervous chuckle but a deep, rolling thing that echoed off tile and cabinetry and made some of the younger soldiers shuffle their feet. Johnny leaned back in his chair, confidence radiating from every pore, lips splitting into a wolfish grin that belonged behind bars or beneath a muzzle.

He tipped his head as if in deference, but I knew better.

“I’ve come to my senses, signora. I want to join your side in this war.” He said it buoyantly, as though announcing a new favorite sports team.

I kept the shock from my face—a muscle memory by now—but inside my mind reeled with questions. Was this Bonetti’s idea? A trap? Or had Johnny truly defected? In this world, loyalty flipped like a coin caught midair; one could never be sure which way it would land until it smashed against something hard enough to leave a mark.

I weighed the possibilities with a leader’s precision while keeping quiet.

If what he said was true, this could be a very good thing. This situation presented me with a unique opportunity. Our famiglia might be split into two factions. But that was the politics of theleadership. The men? They’d been brothers-in-arms, sworn to the same oath since they were made.

If I could win the soldiers and their capos over to my side….

One by one, like dominoes, Bonetti’s power would chip away until he fell. It was worth consideration.

“Prove it,” I said finally, finger still curled around the trigger.

Johnny set down his fork with deliberate slowness, never breaking eye contact, even as two of Franky’s men stepped up behind him with their hands ghosting over holstered weapons.

“Bonetti’s planning to hit your car dealership tomorrow,” he said evenly.

My blood chilled rapidly, making it feel as if someone had doused my arteries with ice.

“With civilians?” My voice cracked an octave higher.

Johnny shook his head once, solemnly, almost respectfully. “No civilian casualties. He’ll send an anonymous tip to the law. The cops will storm the place, make a big show out of seizing whatever they find.”

That was a smart play on Bonetti’s part. Hit me using another enemy. The tactic I’d used twice now.

I considered Johnny. This was useful intel—if legit. There’d be time to sweep out anything sensitive before blue lights hit the lot; the police would stomp around in circles for hours and go home with nothing but dust on their shoes and frustration in their reports.

“Sweep the place,” I said to Joseph.