More typing on the other end of the phone. “Not much,” Dante admits. “Emilio has been keeping a low profile since he took over.”
My gut churns. “I don’t trust it,” I say. “Every time powerchanges hands, something always goes down. It happened with the cartel in Mexico last year—the new heir killed Mexico City’s chief of police to make a statement about his ability. I don’t doubt Cesari will want to do the same. He doesn’t want to be seen as weak.” I return the milk to the fridge.
“Do you think he killed Isa?” Dante asks.
Cold rage fills my chest. “It’s possible. You’re always in your den of technology, so I’ve become the most public-facing family member for the last five years. If I’m on the outs then it’ll hurt business and therefore, help them.”
Dante clicks his tongue. “It’s not a den; it’s a nice office,” he argues.
I turn and rest back against the countertop as I stir my coffee and put the lid on. “Even if I wasn’t particularly thrilled to be marrying her, Isa’s murderer still needs to be found,” I say, ignoring his statement. “It must have been someone at the wedding.”
Silence is followed by the sound of grinding molars. I lift my coffee to my lips as Dante speaks again through those clenched teeth of his. “The cameras of the venue mysteriously went offline in the time between when she was last seen entering the bridal suite and when the boys found her body.”
“It was a planned hit.” The words are a statement of the glaringly obvious, not a question, but Dante answers anyway.
“Yes,” he agrees. “Whoever hacked the security cameras and erased the footage was good. They didn’t leave behind anything I’ve been able to pick up on to track down their identity.”
Sharp spikes begin to spin in my gut. “Do you think Daisy is in danger?” I told the girl she could be, but in truth, I’m notquite sure. If Isa was killed to prevent me from getting married and taking my rightful place next to Dante and Don Luciani, then the reason for danger should have passed the second we said our “I do”s. The thought of Daisy ending up the same as Isa, cold and lifeless with a bullet hole in her forehead and the center of her chest, doesn’t sit well with me. She’s far too young, too innocent for such an end. Isa, at least, had been worldly-wise. A bit of a bitch, but with experience. Daisy is… something that the darkness shouldn’t be allowed to touch. She’smine.
“It could be that someone specifically didn’t want you to marry Isa,” Dante suggests, pulling me back from those thoughts. “After all, she had a few connections of her own, and I have no doubt that everyone knew you had agreed to let her perform her… work in exchange for information.”
He had a point. I had agreed to let Isa continue to fuck her way through whichever Families she wanted during our marriage in return for any useful information she found. She would have gotten the safety of my name and my family and rank, and I would have gotten a woman on the inside of some of our deepest rivals’ bedrooms. That would have made many—especially her previous paramours—nervous, no doubt. I just hadn’t expected them to kill her.
“It could be that they didn’t want her to reveal secrets that she already had to her new husband,” I consider aloud. If that’s the case, then Daisy shouldn’t be a target. Of course, I’ll want to keep her under wraps for a while longer to ensure she can be trusted, but she’ll be safe, and that’s as important as keeping our secrets.
I put the phone on speaker and set both it and the coffee mugon the counter so I can cross my arms over my chest. “Can you find out if Isa had a fight with any of her old paramours before the wedding?” I ask.
“I can look into it,” he agrees readily. “If that’s the case, then Daisy should be safe now. She isn’t connected to anyone in our world save for us.”
“Agreed,” I say slowly. “But if Isawaskilled because of me, inform me. If there’s even a possibility that Daisy’s life might still be in danger, I want to know.”
Dante is silent for a moment, the empty sound of crackling electricity over the line the only thing between us until he speaks again. “I was just joking the other day about your possessiveness, but it sounds as if you actually might like your new wife,mio fratello.” His tone at the end is taunting.
The button at my throat is too tight all of the sudden, and I reach up to slip it free. “She’s part of the Family now,” I say. “I want her protected.”
Dante does that ridiculously annoying thing he’s done since we were gangly preteens. It’s a near soundless hum in the back of his throat that only ever comes out when he’s feeling particularly smug or as if he knows a secret no one else does. I try not to growl as I snap into the receiver of the phone and fail. “What?”
“Maybe ourpapáis getting what he wants after all” is all he says.
Disgust inches through me. Don Luciani’s obsession with family and ties is nothing new; he said as much when he commanded me to find a bride and get married if I wanted to continue in the organization. But for Dante to suggest that ourfather’s manipulations have worked enough to make me actually care about the woman I call my wife is too much.
Reaching up, I pinch the bridge of my nose and release a slow breath. When all of the air has escaped me, I speak again. “Had it been left up to me, I would have never been married at all,” I tell my brother. “She’s a complication.” A sweet, amusing, and endlessly entertaining—if not a bit confusing—complication with a perfectly rounded ass and breasts that practically beg for a man to cup and squeeze and lick and kiss…
“And that,mio fratello, is whyPapágave the order,” Dante informs me, halting the unnecessary thoughts.
“I know.” I grit my teeth and reach for the coffee on the counter. I slug back another mouthful of the stuff before giving up on waiting around the penthouse. I don’t know when she plans to come back. I turn toward the door and lock it behind me as I exit.
“Daisy should be fine if she stays in public,” Dante says. “But I’ll work on tracking her down and will get back to you.” Leather creaks in the background.
Stopping before the elevator, I press the button that leads down to the lobby and wait impatiently for its arrival. A thought occurs to me as the shuffling of fabric and movement comes through the phone. “What do you think of Constantin?” I ask. The old bastard has certainly never liked me much. That combined with his words at the reception put him on my list of suspects for Isa’s murder, but he’s also been with the Luciani family long enough that heshouldbe loyal. Don Luciani would think so anyway.
“He’d be on my list, too,” Dante says, guessing at thedirection of my thoughts as accurately as ever. “I don’t trust that old bastard any more than you do. WhyPapáthinks he’s worth a damn is beyond me.”
“He’s one of the only ones left from the old country,” I comment. “Constantin and Stefano grew up together.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not a rat,” Dante snipes, and I’m in full agreement.
“Keep an eye on him,” I suggest. “He said something at the reception that makes me think he expected Isa’s death.”
