Page 20 of Wicked Mafia Sinner

He’s worried about the uptick in danger surrounding us and those closest to us lately. I understand why he and the rest of my brothers are frustrated, I do. But they chose to fall in love and get married just like they chose our way of life. I don’t have to carry the burden of their choices.

But I do anyway. Deep down I love the women who have made them all happy. I simply know that happiness will not find me. And I am okay with that. I have to be.

Instead of earning the wrath of my brothers and telling them what they already know, I pour my second drink of the night and lean my weight back.

Rafael sits quiet for a few minutes with no visible signs of his thoughts beyond his usual pensive scowl. “Keep working the international channels, my brother," he eventually says. “Bring us something we can act on. Tension is a bit high as you can see. No one means any disrespect.”

I nod. The briefing is done and I have work to do.

“Hold up.” Luca throws his weight into his chair, looking disappointed. He ties his hair back and that is a clear sign there’s work to be done.

Shit.

The damn wishes.

Luca is on his feet again, moving between the table and the bar with envelopes fanned in his left hand, sorting through them quickly. He reads fragments aloud, passing wishes to the brothers best suited for each case. Drake takes three. Massimo takes two. Kon refuses one and accepts another with a grunt that communicates his enthusiasm. It probably deals with a body and a fresh grave.

I half-listen. My role in the Syndicate has never been wish granting. The other five engage with individual interventions, personal cases, and more than a few that would land us all in prison if anyone caught us. My contribution is infrastructure. I keep the international channels open, the shipping routes clean, the financial pipelines flowing. I am the engine underneath while my brothers work the surface.

I rarely claim wishes. Tonight should be no different.

Luca moves past me on his way to the bar, the remaining envelopes in hand. His elbow clips the back of my chair and a single envelope slips free, the paper sliding loose and landing in my lap.

I pick it up. The seal is already torn from earlier sorting. A folded piece of paper sits inside and I pull it free.

The handwriting registers first. It’s uneven, pressed hard into the paper, the letters denting through to the back side.

My eyes drop to the words and every sound in the room falls away.

Help! I witnessed a murder and now I am next. Please, I need protection. I'll pay anything.

Below that, an address.

Below that, a name. My full attention hones in on it.

Cora Vale.

Every muscle goes into a full-body clamp that stops my breathing mid-inhale. Heat floods the back of my neck. I mentally erase the shock locking me up and read the name again to make sure stress isn’t causing me to hallucinate.

Nope. It really does read: Cora Vale.

My chest tightens and I fist my tumbler so hard the glass cracks between my fingers. Knots form in my gut.

I read the wish again and memorize the address.

I shake the mess of my broken tumbler away, unbothered by the few nicks along my fingers.

"I need to handle something." I stand, uncaring of anyone reading the wave of urgency making my movements choppy.

Rafael's eyes track me. The calculation runs behind his dark gaze. I clock the second he spots the broken glass.

“What’s wrong?” Rafael is out of his chair. Luca follows. Everyone in this damn room is so fine-tuned to the energy of the man next to him, it’s like we all move in a pack. One man gives a signal and everyone is ready for a fight.

"What did we miss?" Luca huffs out a heavy breath and tosses the last of the red envelopes on the conference table. “Am I making calls or did someone die?” He’s grabbing for his shoulder holsters before I can tell him to stand down.

I pocket her wish. "A wish requires my attention tonight. Stand down. I’ll call in help if I need it."

Rafael places a hand on my shoulder and forces me to stop before I can walk out. A crease mars the space between his brows. A couple of heartbeats pass and I guess he finds what he is looking for because he gives a simple nod saying, “Call.”