The brothers crossed the room and rounded the couch. Valentino was still staring at the headline. It had changed:

DONATA MARINO TAKEN INTO CUSTODY.

MORE TO COME.

Luca clapped his hands on the younger boys’ shoulders. ‘Questo è un giorno triste,’ he said softly. His face clouded and for the first time I could see grief creeping to the surface. The boys looked up at him, their eyes shimmering. A moment passed between them and I got the overwhelming sense that to these kids, Luca was someone important. And not just in the Mafia sense.

Nic bent down beside CJ. His voice was hard. ‘We will have our revenge.’

Without lifting his eyes from the floor, CJ nodded.

Luca dragged his brother upright by the back of his neck. ‘Can’t we have one moment of peace, Nicoli?’

‘This is not a time for peace. It’s not what’s best.’

‘And what’s best for Sal and Aldo?’ asked Luca. ‘Sono bambini.’

The youngest boy blinked his big eyes. ‘Me and Sal aren’t babies,’ he said, affronted. ‘We want to talk about revenge.’

I glanced sidelong at Millie, our faces screwing up with matching levels of shock. We had never heard a child talk like that. Not even in movies. It was jarring, and yet in that room just then it seemed so … casual.

Sal didn’t look as convinced as Aldo. His face was blotchy with his tears and his lip was quivering violently.

‘You see?’ said Nic to Luca. ‘This is what’s best.’

Luca shook his head.

Valentino pulled his attention from the news. They were showing footage of the club exterior now. There were fire trucks and ambulances on the scene. Onlookers had gathered around it and the front entrance was cordoned off with police tape.

He turned to his brothers. ‘Can you two stop arguing? I’m trying to find out what happened.’

‘We know what happened,’ said Nic. ‘We were there.’

Valentino rounded on his brothers. He pulled his hands from the wheels of his chair and cracked his knuckles. ‘Oh, you were?’ he asked, his voice acidic. ‘Then maybe you can tell me how you screwed up so spectacularly and managed to get one of our finest members killed in action? Maybe you can tell me how you marched into that club with a contact already on the inside, the element of surprise on your side and five armed assassins, and still somehow failed to kill a sitting duck?’

‘They were armed!’ Nic said. ‘There were too many people in the way and Calvino went back for Jack after we pulled out. What could I do about that?’

‘You could have gone for Donata!’ Valentino snapped. ‘You had them in the palm of your hand and they both got away!’

Nic’s anger rose to match his brother’s. ‘You don’t know what it was like, Valentino. You weren’t there.’

‘It’s not my job to be there! It’s your job!’ Valentino clasped his hands around the arms of his chair and hoisted himself up, balancing on his good leg so he could be closer to Nic. I was surprised by how tall he was. He jabbed his brother’s chest. ‘You said it would work. You cased the place. We put our trust in your intel and it failed. You’ve made me look weak, Nic. Un pazzo incompetente!’

‘You’re not a fool, Valentino.’

‘Tell that to the Marinos!’ he hissed.

Nic lifted his chin and, defiantly, he said, ‘We’re still stronger than them.’

‘Are we?’ Valentino’s voice fell deathly quiet. He bared his teeth, sharp canines ripping into a savage smile with no mirth. ‘What makes you so sure, brother? We don’t know what Jack Gracewell traded for their protection. We don’t know what weapons Donata Marino has.’

He released his stance and slumped back, landing heavily in his chair. It was jarring to witness him so unhinged. Tonight had removed his mask of careful impassivity and it was unsettling for everyone. Aldo’s sobs turned to hiccups. He and Sal were cowering so hard they were sinking into the couch.

Valentino’s shoulders slumped as he looked away from Nic, scowling. ‘Calvino has died and Jack Gracewell walks free still. È una disgrazia.’

‘We did our best,’ said Nic.

Valentino growled at his brother, his features turning feral, the way I had seen Luca’s many times before. ‘It wasn’t good enough, do you understand? Your best wasn’t good enough.’

‘Stop shouting at me!’ Nic replied. He turned to Luca, his expression imploring. ‘Tell him to stop!’

‘Valentino,’ said Luca, calmly. He clasped his twin’s shoulder, and Valentino sat a little straighter, strengthened by the gesture. ‘This isn’t helping. What’s done is done. We need to stick together, not tear ourselves apart.’

It occurred to me that I had never seen the Falcone twins side by side before. On the surface they were so alike – the same bright eyes and stern expressions – but when they spoke, they broke apart. This time it was Luca in command of himself, controlled and practical, as Valentino shook with rage, turning dangerous at the threat of what lay ahead. There was a world of difference between them, but I knew what they were: two halves of one whole. The boss and the underboss, united, in that moment, in their loss.

After a heavy silence, Valentino waved his arm in half-surrender. ‘It is what it is,’ he conceded. ‘We must look forward.’

Millie and I had gotten used to being invisible by now. We had shuffled closer without meaning to, listening with eagerness as they argued back and forth.