Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I’ve never seen this man in my life. I don’t know him. I can’t.
Yet, alarm bells are ringing so loud, I can’t hear anything else.
Because I know his voice.
Run
Fucking run.
“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Moretti,” he says, extending his hand, looking down at me a smile that shows the sharp points of his incisors.
When I don’t move, don’t shake his hand, he drops his. “I’m sorry, it must be a very hard day for you.” I just blink, unable to speak or breathe or run. He clears his throat. “I didn’t know anyone still did this,” he says, pointing to the covered mirror, trying to fill the awkward silence.
I look away, finally, to that mirror. Then to Cassian’s eyes which are locked on me and I understand something.
He arranged this. Cassian arranged for this meeting to happen exactly as it is happening because he wanted to see my reaction.
“Let’s go get those things, Allegra,” Jet says.
I blink. Turn to him. My throat is so dry I can’t swallow or speak or utter a single sound.
His eyebrows furrow. He glances at Angelo, but barely. Instead, he takes my arm and turns me then walks me up the stairs to my old bedroom where, once we’re inside, he closes the door, and I can drop onto the edge of the bed.
“Did you know?” I ask him.
“Know what?” he asks.
I clasp my hands to stop them from trembling. I look up at Jet. “That was a test.”
Jet’s eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”
He doesn’t know. I shake my head. Maybe I’m wrong. Because if I’m right, does that mean Cassian’s uncle is working with Malek? And does Cassian suspect it and that’s why he set up this meeting to happen the way he did?
“Allegra?” Jet asks. He comes to sit beside me. “You okay?”
“Do you know him?” I ask Jet, looking at him.
“Angelo?” He shrugs a shoulder. “A little.”
“Do you like him?”
“Not much, no. But I also don’t like his son.”
“His son?”
“Enzo.”
That’s right. Enzo is Cassian’s cousin.
“What is it?” Jet asks.
“I think he was there.” Jet’s eyebrows furrow. “I think he was at the Maestro’s house when Malek held me prisoner. I could hear from the broken window. I think… I think it was him…”
Jet’s eyes narrow and he mutters a curse. “Are you sure, Allegra? You need to be sure. You can’t make a mistake with this.”
I shake my head, press the heels of my hands into my eyes. “I don’t know. Shit. I don’t know.”
27
CASSIAN
My uncle watches Allegra go.
I watch my uncle.
“I heard she’s married to Lombardi,” he says as he turns to face me.
“What do you know about that?” I ask.
He pauses, a frown furrowing his brow. “What everyone knows, I suppose. It was the talk in here. Which was, by the way, awkward. The contract could have waited. Why did you need me to drop everything and come here?”
I shrug a shoulder robotically, my brain working. “This is as good a place as any. It’ll be mine soon. Once Allegra and I are married.”
He glances past me, peering out the window. “That man?” he asks.
I turn my head to look. Joseph is being escorted into the woods behind the property.
“Simple, Uncle.” I turn to face him. “You’re either with me or you’re against me. That man is against me. He is my enemy.”
He studies me. “Not all things are so clear cut.”
“This is.”
“Does she know what you’re going to do to him?”
“Why would she need to know?”
“Because he’s her family.”
“Blood betrayal is the worst kind,” I say, my blood cooling by degrees at the realization. “That the contract?” I ask, gesturing to the folder he’s holding.
He looks at it like he’d forgotten it was there. He nods. “I have no idea why you’d give that land back to the Blackstones. We took it legitimately. It is ours.”
“Let’s talk in the study.” I point out the way and follow my uncle who glances over his shoulder twice, eyeing me and the soldier at my back.
Once we’re inside, I dismiss the soldier and watch as my uncle takes in the bloodstained carpet, the blotter on the desk. He turns to me. “Another enemy?”
“Same one.” Angelo Trevino has been a fixture in my life for as long as I have memories. He is my father’s brother. He was the man who loved me when my father would not.
I trusted him. I have always trusted him.
“What’s going on, Cassian?”
“Whiskey?” I ask, breaking eye contact and crossing the room to pour two glasses. I need a drink.
“Sure. Heard Moretti had some decent cigars.”
“If he did, I haven’t looked for them.” I hand him one of the glasses and take the seat behind the desk. If he finds it odd, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he pulls one of the chairs from the semicircle to the front of the desk and has a seat. “I’m not here to loot the place. I’ll close it up once we’re done today.”