His eyes were swollen, his nose needed to be put back in its place, his mouth was bruised, and he wondered how he didn't lose a tooth already. He was going to need tons of medical attention if he survived this.
Speaking of surviving, Milo cocked the gun. Staring at him overhead, Zayne could feel his hand tremble; he knew Milo was going through his pain and this was the only way to take it out.
"If you were any other person, if you were a soldier instead of a Don, you would have been dead. Dad wouldn't think twice before burying a bullet in your face."
"Yeah," Zayne muttered, "the reason we all need you is to put everyone in their place, Milo. Shut your eyes and pull it."
"Then you'll be dead, stupid."
"That's the goal, right?"
They both stayed still, Milo's eyes on his brother. No one understood how badly it had felt hearing of Matteo's death; he hadn't shown it, couldn't show it; he just watched everything go lifeless.
Then he learned it was due to the carelessness of his brother; he
