∞∞∞
That night, I stayed in my apartment. I needed to be someplace where I felt grounded. Here, I didn’t have to play a role for my family. Of course, I was partly to blame for the situation I was in.
Filomena had headed the investigation into my father’s death. Spoken to her sources. Pronounced Quentin Vanetti’s organization responsible. We’d all trusted her word. It was her idea to put me in the running for Quentin’s new executive secretary. It had all come together seamlessly, almost like she’d planned Barbara’s retirement herself.
But what had sealed the deal was that I’d always used the name Russell, for my protection. It was the perfect setup, and Carlo had quickly agreed. I’d been excited to actually put all my training into practice and prove myself to the family. Between Filomena and Carlo, I’d become part of the team in a way I’d never been before.
Until I’d actually met Quentin Vanetti. Now I had a hard time believing he would do something so foolish.
The intelligence in his eyes, his competence, his business acumen.
Does he seem like a man who'd order a mob hit that could cost him millions?
Big Sal's murder had happened in the privacy of his own home. A chilling message that power was an illusion and no one was safe.
Quentin was careful. Strategic. If he'd wanted Papa dead, that was exactly how he would have done it. So why did my gut tell me otherwise?
I rubbed my forehead.
This was why Filomena had warned me. This was why investigating someone you're attracted to was dangerous.
Because now I was second-guessing everything.
My phone buzzed. Text from unknown number.
I opened it.
Miss Russell, this is Quentin Vanetti. Would you be available for a call tomorrow at 2 p.m? I'd like to discuss the position.
My heart jumped.
He was going to offer me the job. Had to be. You didn't schedule calls to reject candidates.
I should feel triumph. Relief. One step closer to the mission.
Instead, I felt something else entirely.
I'm in.
Which meant I was close to him now. Close enough to explore. Close enough to find truth. Close enough to stop Carlo from ordering his execution if he was innocent.
I typed back:I'm available. Thank you.
Professional. Calm. Nothing that revealed the war happening in my chest.
Somewhere in this city, Silvio was probably celebrating. Planning. Hoping I'd find evidence quickly so this could all be over.
But I wasn't celebrating.
I was doubting everything.
He’d better be innocent, or things were going to get messy.
Chapter 7
Quentin
At 1:58 p.m., I stared at my phone.
