Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-One
"I'm killing that son of a bitch."
The words had barely left Ahmet's mouth when Settimo spoke.
"Marco wasn't always our enemy."
Ahmet froze.
Asli's eyes moved to Settimo. The older man remained standing near the center of the room, his expression still unreadable.
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Then Ahmet gave a humorless laugh.
"What?" If he wasn't an enemy then what was he?
Settimo looked at him.
"Marco was once part of our circle."
Ahmet's face tightened.
"What circle?"
Settimo glanced toward Asli before looking back at him.
"Mine. Your biological father's. Silvio's."
Ahmet stared at him.
"Silvio?"
"Markus' father."
The room went still. It had been so long since he heard the name that Ahmet forgot whose name that was.
Settimo walked slowly toward the window.
"There were four of us."
He rested one hand against the back of the chair.
"Me. Luis. Silvio. Marco. The unbeatable four."
Ahmet said nothing.
