“I agree, it doesn’t make as much sense as it seems.” Alessio steps closer to her. “I don’t personally think it’s just about you. Even if you were the intended target.”
I look toward the floor for a moment, thinking. Trying to tie together all of the ends that I’ve been given up to this point.
“Could the Tulos be against the marriage, but only because of the Fiorellis?” I ask.
“Why wouldn’t they target both of us?” Rosalie asks.
“Perhaps they want the Dresvannis alive,” I suggest. “If they are interested in the Dresvannis, but are against the Fiorellis joining them, they might target only you.”
Rosalie sighs. “Great. Just what I need. Eivor was all for this marriage, he thought it was going to solve all his problems with power,” she admits. “Now it might be the reason we’re being targeted.”
“If you are being targeted because of it, it’s too late now,” Alessio reminds the both of us.
I nod slowly. “You’re already married. It’s done.”
Rosalie turns toward the stove and picks up the spatula again. She pushes the eggs around a bit before turning the burner off, and letting them cook the rest of the way with the residual heat.
“The only option is to take the Tulos down,” Rosalie mumbles.
“It might be,” Alessio agrees.
The room is quiet. “We need more information,” I tell them. “We don’t know for sure what’s going on, and for now, you’re safe. I’ve checked every room.”
“Good,” Alessio glances at me, and I swear I feel thudding in my chest. My heart beating hard and fast.
Rosalie dumps her eggs on her plate, grabs a fork, and then a mug to pour her coffee. It’s completely silent while she does this. Rosalie looks beyond tired.
None of us say anything else, and I wonder if it’s because we all have nothing left to say, or we all have the same thing to say.
Regardless, it’s quiet for several more moments, and the tension in the room is thick.
“I’ll be sleeping in my own room,” she tells Alessio, with a pointed look. “I know your privacy is important to you.”
Even I understand what she means before she disappears from the kitchen.
They will not be consummating their marriage tonight.
I sit in the living room of the suite sipping at my own mug of coffee while Alessio makes his way to the other bedroom with his things.
It’s well after eleven by the time he comes back out. My coffee is gone, and I hadn’t been expecting to see him again tonight.
“The Tulo family could be planning their next move right now,” he says quietly.
Alessio has changed out of his tux and is wearing dark blue silk pajama pants and a light grey t-shirt that clings to his biceps and chest.
I swallow hard and glance away from him and toward the TV screen that is black and only shows me my own face in return.
“They probably are,” I agree.
I remind myself there are more important things to get hung up on than the way Alessio looks tonight and look back toward him. “They must know that their driver was caught and interrogated.”
“We need to find the shooter,” he replies. “He’ll get us the information we need. The driver wasn’t related to the Tulos at all, but the shooter… the driver said he was a Tulo.”
I nod slowly and stand up. “That’s good to know. Do we know if the Carvels are involved with the Tulos?”
Alessio folds his arms and stands in front of me with a frustrated look on his face. Pinched brows. “No. The driver barely gave us any information besides the fact that they only intended to kill Rosalie.”
“I’d ask for a chance to get more information from him but he’s dead now, isn’t he?” I ask slowly, wondering if Alessio was the one who did the job.
