“Marchetti,” Dom snapped.
My stomach squeezed the way it did before the interrogations I’d done. And like I’d done before every single one of them, I emptied my thoughts and kept my cool. I turned around and looked at Dominic, my partner in crime, a man I’d known since the day I was born. Twenty-eight years of friendship, of sharing everything from test answers to women. Never in all of those years had I lied to him. I hated that I would have to start now, but I quickly slipped into mission mode.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “What night?”
“Any night.” He ran a hand through his hair. “At the bar, at Rosie’s party. Any night. Yari said she saw her speaking to you. What did she say?”
Of course. Fucking Yari. I frowned. “Nothing of importance. She told me about school and bartending and clarified that she didn’t want to get married.”
“Fuck.” He kicked the chair next to me. I sat perfectly still as I assessed him. He looked at me again, a wild look in his eyes he only got when he was about to lose it. I set the cards down and stood up slowly.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked with a calmness that I did not feel.
“I. . .” He took a breath.
“Spit it out already, De Luca,” Dean said behind me.
“She’s gone.”
The entire world seemed to stop at that moment. I blinked. I assessed his posture, the situation, and the words he’d just spoken. I didn’t trust myself to speak yet. I needed one more second. Thankfully, Gio couldn’t keep his mouth shut and asked for me as he walked back into the room.
“Who’s gone?” He took a sip of the homemade lemonade Rosie had sent. Fucking homemade lemonade in a mob house.
“My sister,” Dom shouted. “She’s fucking gone.”
“What do you mean go—” I started, but Dom’s wild eyes cut off my question.
“She left. She grabbed a bag and left, and no one knows where the fuck she is, and my father is losing his everloving mind.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, sitting my ass back in the seat.
I thought about the kiss in the bathroom of that restaurant and how it felt like a goodbye. She meant it as such. She knew she’d be leaving and said goodbye without actually saying it. I figured it was because she was going to marry that asshole, not because she was going to. . .
“Did she run away?” I asked.
“Was she kidnapped?” Russo asked at the same time.
We both looked at each other then, my confused eyes turning lethal, his questioning ones turning into more questions. I turned to Dom.
“No, she wasn’t kidnapped.” He laughed sharply, taking out his cell phone.
The five of us hovered over the screen. Even before he pressed play, I felt something twist in my stomach because I knew that the hallway led to Giuseppe’s home office, and Lenora was at the end of the hall. He pushed play, and we watched as she hurried into his office. In the next clip, she looked like she was searching everywhere for something until she sat and sagged down into her father’s chair. Her body moved until she hit the floor, and there she was for a long time. From this angle, we couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing, but when she finally stood back up, she had two things in her hand: a notebook and something small.
“She stole my father’s ledger and USB drive,” Dom said, pushing the side button on his phone as he started to pace again.
I sat back in my chair.
Dean sat back in his.
Lorenzo and Gio both took a fucking seat.
No one spoke.
Stealing from Giuseppe De Luca was a death sentence, and I wasn’t sure how he’d apply that to his daughter, but considering that he’d killed his older brother with his bare hands, I didn’t like the odds. Would he kill her? Maybe not. Would he hurt her? Fuck yeah, he would. My mind raced, trying to figure out how he could hurt her and how I could stop it from happening. He’d already fucked up her life. The last thing she needed was for him to fuck it up more.
“Have you spoken to her mother?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Her phone is off. Her mom’s in surgery.”
