Page 137 of The Cost of Silence

He wants us to step up?

Fine.

He’s going to learn what stepping up looks like when you’re a Mancini who chose the clean path and still remembers all the dirty turns.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, half expecting the hospital again.

Instead, it’s a missed call from Adi.

Then another.

Then a text:Call me, NOW.

The cold inside me deepens.

I hit dial and start walking, already knowing, before he even answers, that whatever he’s about to say is worse than anything I just heard.

36.Isabella

“I just gota text from one of my old contacts that Domenico was seen going into Club Ruin.”

Adi looks up sharply. “You should go check it out. But only recon. Take Marco with you.”

Matteo looks at me, seeming hesitant. “You sure?”

“Go, we’re fine.”

“Okay, call me if you need me.”

Then there were two. We continue to go through the details, but the energy is off. We both feel jittery, like the sword of Damocles is hanging over our heads. Limbo is the worst place to be; maybe purgatory is a better word for this feeling.

Adriano busies himself, making calls and barking orders, trying to corral order where there is none.

Adi is pacing the living room. One second he’s finished a call with one of their lawyers, the next, his other phone lights up with an incoming call that makes his whole body go rigid. He keeps a special phone and line for his daughter to contact him so he’s always available. It’s adorable how much he loves his little girl.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, already moving toward the hall. “It’s Marta.”

“The nanny?” I ask, still perched at the table with my notebook. My hair is frizzy from air drying it after my shower, my skin is almost raw, and I’m pretending that writing everything down is more important than the way my hands keep wanting to shake.

He nods, distracted. “She wouldn’t call during work unless it was serious.”

He disappears into the study and closes the door. I can hear his voice low and urgent through the wall, too muffled to make out the words, just the cadence, question, curse, reassurance. Seconds stretch. A minute. Two.

When he comes back out, his face is paler than usual.

“Everything okay?” I ask, even though it clearly isn’t.

“Marta’s mother collapsed,” he says. “They think it’s her heart. She’s on her way to the hospital but they don’t know what they’re walking into.” He’s already grabbing his keys, his coat, the tension in him now not just protective but something rawer. “She wants to go home to be with her, but she hates leaving Letty so suddenly with just her security. She asked if I’d let her go.”

“Of course,” I say immediately. “Go. Letty needs you.”

He nods, but he doesn’t relax. “I don’t like leaving you alone, even for an hour. Nico will kill me if anything happens.”

“I’m not alone,” I point out. “There are two of your guys outside the door and four cameras I know of. I have no plans to leave the penthouse. Besides, if I need anything, I can call my terrifying mob boyfriend, and he’ll helicopter in on a dragon or something.”

The corner of his mouth twitches despite everything. “That’s Matteo’s fantasy, not Nico’s.”

“I’ll keep the door locked,” I say. “I’ll stay away from the balcony. I’ll be the best-behaved potential kidnapping victim you’ve ever had.”