I stare at the list, feeling useless. "I wish I could help more. Living here doesn't mean I was privy to everything."
Luca nods, disappointment flickering across his face though he tries to hide it. He folds the paper, tucking it away.
"What about Eva?" I ask. "What did Lorenzo suspect her of?"
"Information trafficking. Dates, locations of shipments. All the things the Bratva would need to intercept our deliveries."
"If she was feeding information to the Russians all that time, Adriano would be devastated," I say, remembering he seemed head over heels for her.
Luca's face darkens. "Alessandro says Adriano loved her. When she died, he changed. Became harder, more ruthless."
I shrug, feeling useless. "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."
"You've helped more than you know."
"What now?" I ask, feeling like we’re sitting on a powder keg and any move could ignite disaster.
"Now I investigate every name on this list. I find the mole." His voice turns hard. "Someone in this house is responsible for yourbrother's actions, Uncle Matty's death, and probably my father's murder too."
The determination burning in his eyes both comforts and terrifies me.
This is Luca at his most focused.
A man who won't stop until he gets what he wants. It's what I admired about him years ago and what makes him so dangerous now.
“I’m glad you’re staying. Enzo needs protection right now.” What I don’t say is how I need it too. If Luca was suspicious of me, the rest of the family will be too. "I'm scared, Luca. This house is becoming a battlefield.”
"I won't let anything happen to you or Enzo," he says fiercely.
"That's not a promise anyone can keep." I stand and pace the small living room.
He rises, crossing to me in two swift strides. His hands cup my face with gentleness. “What’s going on?”
“You’re in danger too.” I hate how much I’ve come to need him when my goal had been to keep him at arm’s length. And now he’s going to find a mole who has killed two and whose actions led to Enzo’s kidnapping and my brother’s death. Luca hasn’t made any promises to me. But there’s definitely no future if he’s killed.
He nods. “I’m good at what I do.”
I practically roll my eyes. I don’t doubt him, but plenty of people who are good at what they do in this world end up dead. Lorenzo is one of many examples.
And of course, he could still leave.
He has his own life in Chicago.
One I know nothing about, I realize.
He’s never told me anything about it.
For all I know, he’s married.
“What is going on in there?” he says, tapping my temple.
“A lot.” I look into his steely gaze. "Find whoever did this. But promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"When this is over, whatever happens, be honest with me. If you're leaving again, just tell me. Don't disappear."
His thumb traces my cheekbone. "I promise."
