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I hated the drugs. They kept trying to diagnose me with shit, but the most they could come up with was a general mood disorder and c-PTSD. But I wouldn’t let anyone stick me in a fucking box. They could say whatever the hell they wanted. I was fine.
Everyone’s just pissed I don’t play by the rules. Fuck the rules!
I paced. Moving kept me calm as I shifted back and forth. Freaking out and beating up that guy wasn’t the best idea, but when Ash had pushed me away, and that asshole was the one who triggered it all… I couldn’t help it. I let my temper get the best of me.
“That’s not all I wanted to talk about,” Benito said. “That man was one of Roger’s friends. I suggest you keep an eye on Ash if you really give a shit about him because there was some talk about Roger wanting to find him.”
I shrugged. “If Roger comes anywhere near him, I’ll tear both his arms off and make him eat them,” I snapped. “He doesn’t have the resources to take him back.”
“He has friends that still support him,” Enzo said, calm as ever. “Yes, he’s a lowlife, but he’s a lowlife with charisma. That makes him dangerous to you and your new pet.”
I clenched my fist and swallowed a groan of pain as my stitches stretched. Quickly, I opened my hand and tried to calm down.
“He’s not a pet,” I told Benito. “The one in the hospital, what’s his name?” I asked.
Benito shook his head. “You really want to know?”
“Yeah. And I want to know how he knows Ash.”
“That I can’t tell you,” Benito said. “The only information I have is that he’s friends with Roger. His name is Keith Grant.”
I pulled a face. “Keith,” I said disdainfully. “What a stupid fucking name.”
“You can deal with him later when there are no witnesses,” Benito said pointedly. He glanced between the two of us. “I’m worried we’re becoming distracted,” he said finally. “This hospital contract needs to come first.”
“I thought Gin was handling it,” Enzo said.
“I am.”
“He is,” Benito confirmed, a weight lifting from my chest at his sure nod. “But I’m reiterating it. Especially because someone is trying to drag our name through the mud.”
“What are you talking about?” Enzo asked.
Benito passed his phone over. “This. Show it to Gin.”
I looked over his shoulder at the article on Benito’s phone. The headline was in big, bold lettering.
Who are the Vitales? Behind New York’s infamous criminal family.
I frowned. “What the hell is this?”
“Someone’s digging up the past,” Benito said. “From what I can tell, this is a small site, not a lot of traffic, but enough. It’s not hidden that we have a dicey background,” he said. “However, we want to lean into this new image. Goodness, following the rules, obeying the law.” His eyes fell on me. “I can’t have anyone fucking this up.”
My throat tightened. Shit, I knew exactly where he was coming from. It wasn’t as if the Vitale name was unknown, but Benito had worked hard to replace the old stigmas and rumors with a shiny new image. For the most part, it had been working. Seemed like someone wanted to drag up old history, though.It may be that worm AJ or maybe Able.
“I need you to be on your best behavior,” Benito said evenly as his eyes slid from me to Enzo and back again. “Both of you.”
Enzo nodded. “I’m only taking on the assignments I’ve been given and keeping a low profile. Besides, I’m usually busy with Tex or Pen.”
Benito’s gaze narrowed on me. “I need you to be as quiet as your brother.”
“Fuck me,” I groaned. “How? We both know I get antsy!”
“I don’t give a damn,” Benito snapped. “Collect your shit and stuff it down your throat for all I care. This kinda shit needs to stop. Now,” he said, tapping the screen of his phone before he took it away. “Whatever we have to do, it gets done quietly. No displays of violence or rage. Not where anyone can see or record you.”
“I get it,” I reiterated. “Yes, I fucked up, but—”
“No buts,” Benito cut in. “This guy is already getting you into trouble. You need to find somewhere for Ash to go. Set him up with his own place.”
