“Did you do the right thing in an impossible situation?” she asked back. “Because that’s what this is, Ava. An impossible situation either way.”
I set my head on the steering wheel and just…cried. I cried like I did when I’d told Nazzareno what Janis had done, but this was worse somehow. Because he loved me, cared for me, more than she ever had.
My sister sat quietly on the line with me until I pulled myself together.
“Ava?”
“Yeah?” I sniffed.
“Please come to Florida.” And I realized my sister was crying too.
“Maybe later.” I dug in the console looking for napkins. “Why did you call?”
She sniffed. “You’re pulled over, right?”
“Luci—please don’t tell me something’s happened to Sonny.” I had never said those words before, but usually when she called, or I called, something had happened to Sonny.
“No. No. Nothing like that, okay? But something has happened to someone. Kirill.”
I froze my searching.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I barely breathed out. “What happened to him, Luci?”
“He was killed. And, uh, the thing is, Joe the Detective wants you back in New York.”
“Why?”
“You’re a person of interest.”
“I haven’t even been in New York.”
“I know, but you’ve been linked to his death.”
“I don’t understand, Luci.”
“I’m just going to say it. Kirill’s missing his heart, and it its place…your picture was left.”
FORTY-FOUR
AVA
There wasno reason to return to New York for Joe the Detective. I hadn’t murdered Kirill, and he knew it. I hadn’t been in New York for months, but I also couldn’t admit that I’d been in Italy with the Fausti family either. The picture left behind would have confirmed who’d done it in my honor.
Luca was the epitome of puppet master because he knew. Once I’d fallen in love with Nazzareno, and my loyalty was secured to the family because of it, he was certain I would never rat on them. All the secrets I’d heard and been a witness to were safe with me.
Or he would have never let me leave Italy.
And…if I did prove myself not worthy of his nephew’s love, it might be me fighting for my life in battle.
The man loved stories. He would want a good one to play out.
I wasn’t sure if the story I was currently in was bad or horrid. I had to return to New York. Not for Joe the Detective, but because my husband wasn’t going to stop. He was sending me a clear message.
Keep fucking around withmyheart and find out how cruel I can be.
Kirill didn’t deserve to die, and I had a feeling he was the first in a string of murders to come if I didn’t return to my husband. Nazzareno was crossing any man off my list that I might trust to help me hide from him.
