Indifference flecks my voice, but inside, I feel alive. My nerve endings buzz with satisfaction, because shit, I’ve been itching to do that ever since I saw the bruise lining under Rory’s eye. Now, Tor leaps out of the armchair and draws his gun. “What the fuck, Angelo?” Dante stares at me for a beat too long, frozen in shock. And it’s in this exact moment that I know Alberto was right: this cunt will never make a good capo. I could have put a bullet in his head by now, too.
