“Fuck, seriously?” In the aftermath of the explosion, things had been chaotic. We'd only had minutes to get the key evidence out of the penthouse before the cops and the paramedics had shown up. Some of the family had scattered—leaving the building before it became a crime scene—which was exactly what we'd wanted them to do.
There was no way Aunt Lisa had known what she was bringing into the house. But if she hadn't come back with her pasta dish…
Jesus. Was she involved?
“The Santoros have motive,” Cosimo said, still typing something on his phone. “Revenge for us getting the deal. They found out last night. They might have been planning a surprise for us for a while in case it happened.”
I finished the water and crushed the bottle between my palms. “Who the fuck are these people? Dad was going to tell us right before. Mother must know. They've never had any secrets between them.”
Cosimo’s jaw tightened. “She knows. She’s still being questioned at the precinct. I’ve arranged for someone to wait for her there, and he’ll call me when she’s with him. We’ll talk to her then.”
Out of habit, I reached into my pocket for my phone, but it wasn’t there. I remembered losing it in the chaos…
Fuck. I needed to call Mia.
I didn’t call her before the party. I’d put it off since I was still trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say.
But after the explosion, once the shock had worn off, everything had become clear. Brushing fingers with death had a way of cutting through the noise.
She'd stayed. Despite everything, she’d stayed.
And that could only mean one thing.
Romolo, I…
Christ, I walked out on the only woman I ever loved. And if my gut was right, she loved me too.
Not the kind of love I was used to—one that came with checks and balances and interest payments—but the real fucking deal.
I wasn’t going to let it slip through my fingers. I would fix everything I ruined with her, and then I’d spend the rest of my life doing everything I could to never ruin it again.
Mia Morales was going to bemine.
“Need to use your phone,” I said to Cosimo. As soon as we figured out what the fuck was going on with Aunt Lisa, I’d go to Mia. But first, I had to call her. If she saw the news and heard my family’s name mentioned, she’d worry, and I didn’t want her to worry about me.
He tossed me his device. Mia’s numbers—both the one for the phone I'd given her and her regular one—were stored in my memory. I'd made a point of memorizing them just in case, the same way I had my brothers’ numbers.
It went straight to voicemail.
Without my phone, I couldn’t check her calendar. Maybe she was doing an interview or at some event. I’d try again later.
“For some reason, I always thought Dad would be shot,” Cos said, his voice rough. “And that he’d manage to kill whoever got him.”
“I think that’s how we all hope to go. No one wants to be killed by a faceless killer.”
“Or by a fucking plant.”
I dragged my thumb over my lip. “It means you’re don now.” The capos had to swear loyalty to him, but it was a formality. We’d handle it after we dealt with more pressing matters, like figuring out who the fuck had killed our dad.
Cosimo took the phone from me and slid it inside his jacket, his expression unreadable. If he was hurting inside, he wasn’t showing it. He was already behaving the way the head of the family was expected to behave in a situation like this.
We’d crossed the bridge and were now in Hoboken, just minutes from where Aunt Lisa and Uncle Mario lived. When we pulled up to their two-story home, their cars were missing from the driveway, and all the lights were off.
“I assume you called Uncle Mario too?”
“Yeah. No answer.”
We got out of the car, and the cold night air bit at my skin. I glanced through the windows, watching for any movement inside while Cosimo rang the doorbell. The house was eerily still. No one was moving inside.
