Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Angelo is basically family to the Ferrantes. He’s going to be seeing Lila socially for decades to come. Why would he run the risk Lila would snitch?”
“How the bleeding hell can she snitch?” Fintan frowned. “She’s nonverbal.”
Achilles shook his head. “It was a misdiagnosis. She is hard of hearing, but intellectually astute.”
“What?” Fintan’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, and he turned to look at me. “You knew about this?”
I nodded.
“When did you find out?”
“Pretty much on our wedding night, when she tried to kill me several times,” I said dryly. “She confessed a few days ago.”
“She speaks?”
“ASL, yes. It was obvious from the get-go intelligence wasn’t the issue.” Tierney stopped at the open-space kitchenette, pouring herself a three-hour-old coffee. “Jury’s still out on her brother, though.”
“I’ll have some of that coffee.” Achilles pointed at Tierney with the hand that held his cigarette. Everyone in the room, including the coffeepot, knew the order wouldn’t fly.
Astonishingly, Tierney poured another cup. She strutted her way to Achilles’s side of the desk, raised her arm, and poured the dark liquid over his head. He snatched the paper cup quickly—no more than a few droplets of coffee grazing his attire—and flicked it on Tierney’s dress. She sucked in a breath, staring at him in rage. Her miscalculation surprised me. He was, among other things, an assassin. Killer instincts were what kept him alive.
“You asshole!” she growled.
“Tierney, get out,” I ordered.
“What? Why me?”
“Because you’ll end up hitting him, and something tells me he’ll hit you back, and then I’ll have to kill him, which will derail all my plans.”
“He should be the one to go!”
“I need to negotiate Angelo with him.”
“You know what? Screw all of you.” She stomped away, slamming the door so hard the walls rattled.
She’d get him next time. My twin shared my uncanny ability to turn rage into power.
Achilles flaked drops of coffee from his Tom Ford shirt, turning to me. “As I said, Angelo’s motive doesn’t add up.”
“Neither does Tate’s,” I responded.
“Why isn’t Lila solving this predicament?” Fintan frowned, gathering the documents in front of us into a stack. “Surely, she could point the attacker out for you if you showed her pictures of all the men in question.”
“That’s the problem.” I tapped a pen to my desk rhythmically. “She remembers what happened, and has vague flashbacks, but she doesn’t remember his face at all. Probably blocked it as some sort of a coping mechanism. And since Achilles cares more about saving face than about his sister…” I trailed off.
“Bring me a shred of proof he did it, and I’ll help you gut him alive,” Achilles said. “You’ve got the wrong guy, Callaghan. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think those pesky things called feelings are clouding your judgment.”
“I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to kill the bastard myself,” I conceded. But it had nothing to do with feelings. I needed to bury the secret with him.
“Stand in line, fuckface.” Achilles tossed his phone between his fingers. “I don’t think I’ll even be able to get a few kicks in, with the way Enzo and Luca are consumed by it. You still keeping your filthy hands off my baby sis?”
He was talking about the nice duffel bag full of cash he disposed of at Fermanagh’s every first of the month.
Not for long.
“For now,” I said noncommittally.
“Mama said you sleep in the same bed. Is that right?”
“Yeah.” I ran a hand over my hair. “Your sister has trouble sleeping. It’s better with someone around.”
“And you don’t mind spooning?” Achilles snorted.
I said nothing. It was none of his goddamn business what Lila and I were doing at night. Suddenly, I had less need for that duffel bag full of cash.
Fintan stood up, knocking his coffee cup over the documents I had printed out.
“Shite,” he hissed.
Achilles rolled his eyes. “How do you let him work with you? He’s a useless drunk.”
“And Enzo is a fuckboy who likes making coats out of his victims.” I hitched one shoulder up. “You don’t choose family.”
But if I could, I’d choose Fin all over again for the way he walked through fire for me.
“I’m not drunk,” Fintan mumbled, gathering the damp papers and taking them to the nearest trash can. “Just tired.”
“Anyway.” I jerked my chin toward Achilles. “All the other suspects are low on my list after reading Brennan’s report. Tate and Angelo are at the top. I suggest we start with bringing Tate in and take it from there.”
“Might require a little legwork. He’s in England now, fawning over his newborn.” Achilles collected his wallet and cigarette pack from my desk, standing up.
“Guess we’ll have to lure him back in the good, old-fashioned way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LILA
I sat crisscrossed on Tiernan’s bed, examining my treasure.
As promised, he bought me everything I wanted from the internet and opened an Amazon account for me, where he taught me how to order things. It was a fairly simple process, which infuriated me even more, because why did Mama cut me off from such a great invention?