A one-word answer but no hesitation. She would know about the murders. She worked in Little Italy, and the murders were the number one topic of conversation. That question was more the setup for the next questions.
“Did you kill or execute Noemi or Caio Diliberto?” Geno asked.
“No, I did not.” Her voice was stronger, ringing with the truth.
“Were you present when they were murdered? Or executed, if you prefer that term?”
“No, I was not.”
“Do you know who killed them?”
“No, I do not.”
Geno was certain she was telling the truth, yet at the same time, there was an uneasiness growing in him. Amaranthe might not be lying to him, but she was withholding a piece of the puzzle he would find crucial. He didn’t shift his gaze to Stefano. There was no way for his cousin to do more than hear whether the prisoner was telling the truth or a lie. He wasn’t connected to her in the way Geno was.
Geno stepped back into the stream of light to allow his shadow to further compromise Amaranthe’s. The sexual jolt was far worse this time, rushing through him with the force of a freight train. It took her just as hard, driving the breath from her lungs, eliciting a muffled cry from her. She shook her head and even tried to move from the chair. When she did, the manacles fell from her wrists and dropped to the floor. Geno wasn’t in the least surprised.
Ignoring the explosive chemistry raging between them, Geno was relentless. “Did you kill or execute Margo or Eugene Ferraro?” He kept his tone low. Compelling.
There was no accusation in his voice, but he didn’t take his gaze from hers or pull his mind from hers. It would have been impossible for anyone observing him to know that the two people he named were his parents, but he wasdeeply embedded in her mind. She couldn’t fail to feel the volcanic fury seething beneath the surface. He might cover it with a glacier of ice, dense and difficult for most to ever penetrate, but she was right there with him, and she could see into him, so he did not try to hide from her.
“I did not.”
“Were you present when they were murdered? Or executed, if you prefer that term?”
“No, I was not.”
“Do you know who killed them?”
“No, I do not.”
He shifted gears smoothly. “Why are you in New York?”
She blinked. Her eyes widened. “I dance. I took a job with the dance company. Dancing is my passion.”
She was telling the truth, yet not. It was a partial truth.
“I told you not to lie to me. The consequences of lying to me can be quite severe. Breaking bones in your feet would be the first retaliation that comes to mind. You are a shadow rider. Dancing might be a passion, but it would be a cover for you. You are here to assassinate someone. You came into my territory without first doing me the courtesy of consulting with me. That tells me you know far more about this situation than you are letting on. Again, why are you in New York?”
He kept his tone exactly the same, even when he made the threat to break the bones in her feet. He was matter-of-fact about the penalty for lying to him, and he made it clear he meant what he said.
She took her time answering, thinking carefully. His shadow continued to compromise hers, tangling them together until it was impossible to see where her shadow started and his left off. She shook her head, trying to dislodge him.
“I can’t think straight. Why are you doing that? If something happens to me, don’t you know what can happen to you?”
“What does it matter? You’ve ruined my future by betraying all shadow riders. Even if I survived whatever happens to you, what do I give to my future wife? A man who will never be in love with her. She’ll always know that. Where’s the honor in that?”
“Where’s the honor in what you’ve done? The last thing I expected to find was the two of you.” She nearly spat the accusation at him and then she shut down, pressing her lips tightly together, although her dark eyes sparked fury.
Her response was intriguing. Not only intriguing, but it was the first genuine reaction she’d given him.
“You just admitted you came to New York for something other than dancing. Why are you here?”
“I told you, I dance. If you check into my background, you’ll see I dance all over the world. It’s what I love.”
“I did warn you.” He stepped closer to her, making her very aware of his intention. Her bare feet were vulnerable and easily stomped on.
Geno knew he could never go through with it, not with her, and already he was beginning to have doubts. She might know something of what was going on, but she wasn’t involved. There was far more to this than met the eye.
