Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“The night I met a woman who made me toss it all away,” I finish, the words bitter and heavy.
One night with Anna made me want to be a better person, but one day made me doubt my lucidity the night Camille was conceived.
Nico snorts. “Which is shocking considering she had enough shit in her system for the both of you.”
My jaw clenches. “Anna is using again?”
“From what the test says, it’s a regular occurrence.”
As I stare at a framed photo of Camille smiling on a far wall, a cold dread burrows in my chest. Anna knows the rules. She knows she won’t get near Camille unless she’s clean. I made that clear throughout our multiple custody mediations this week. That term is non-negotiable.
“You didn’t change her results, did you?” My voice is as low as my trust. I don’t use drugs, haven’t in years, but now the lost memories and missing days make sense. The Carusos distribute the best of the best. I know how potent our supplies are.
Now I need to find out who also knows that.
“No chance.” Nico scoffs, wordlessly announcing he wouldn’t piss on Anna if she were on fire. “You said you wanted to do this the right way. To show Camille money can’t overrule morals.”
“That’s right.”
“Then trust me. I didn’t touch her results.”
I briefly close my eyes and suck in a sharp breath. I hate burdening my brothers. I prefer to be the shoulder they lean on when they need advice, but I’m swimming in waters out of my depth.
“Can I ask a favor?” Nico murmurs in agreement without thought. “Can you backtrack my movements over the past forty-eight hours?” Before he can ask questions, I add, “Don’t bother going through the footage from inside my building.” I trust Lucia wholly and without constraint, so I don’t want her every move scrutinized when she’s done nothing wrong. “Anything outside here is up for grabs. I need to know anywhere I visited, even if it was only for a second, the prior two days.”
Again, he coughs to clear his throat. “I’ll get straight on it.”
Before he can hang up, I call his name.
“Yeah?”
“Keep this between us. Giovanni has enough shit on his plate. I am hesitant to add more until I know what’s causing the stink.”
The woosh of a head nod sounds down the line. “I understand.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up, and then the universe toys with me with a quick knock at the door. I hope it’s Lucia and that she’s ready to talk, but my intuition warns me that isn’t the case.
That would be too easy.
I’ll fix my mistakes. I’ll even grovel if that’s the only way I can guarantee she’ll look at me how she did only last week. It will just have to occur in Lucia’s studio apartment since it’s the only floor space in this building not under surveillance.
When I open the door, it isn’t Lucia on the other side.
It’s Anna.
What the fuck?
She’s wearing a tight dress and too much perfume. Her hair is curled, and her lipstick is bright enough to stain anything it touches.
My jaw twitches when I take in her glassy eyes and forced smile. This is the epitome of the Anna I faced when I decided no number of Band-Aids could fix an irreparable crack. She’s pleasant until she decides she no longer needs to be.
“What are you doing here?” I step into the alcove, pushing her further into the hallway. “How did you get this address?”
I swear I’ve said those words before. Déjà vu hits me hard and fast, but before I can dwell on the thought, Camille rushes out of her bedroom, her steps as lively as the lace hem on her new dress.
When she sees Anna, her eyes bulge and her mouth falls open. A broad grin transforms her face as she rushes across the shiny floorboards. She jumps into Anna’s embrace as she does mine most nights and wraps her arms around her neck.
Guilt smacks into me as brutally as the force of Camille’s leap, which almost topples Anna over.
If Anna was the one hurting Camille, shouldn’t she be scared? Shouldn’t she hesitate? If I’m the safe, protective parent, shouldn’t she be clinging to me instead of her mother?
Camille buries her face in Anna’s shoulder. Her small hands grip the fabric of her dress as her body trembles with unspoken emotion. She remains silent. She always does. But the way she melts into Anna’s embrace exposes everything I’ve tried hard to ignore.
Anna didn’t hurt Camille. Someone else did.
“Dante,” Anna says softly, stroking Camille’s hair, “can I stay with her for an hour? Please. I’ll leave as soon as dinner is ready.” She lowers her eyes to Camille. “I’ve missed her so much. I’m not ready to let go yet.”
I want to say no. I should say no. But when Camille peers at me with pleading eyes and a lowered lip, I cave like a coward.