Chapter 2: The Name Nobody Was Supposed to Say
Every g*n was still pointed at me.
I could feel the rain soaking through my uniform.
My hands were shaking.
But I looked Dante Moretti in the eye and I told him the truth.
"Your wife.
At Bellini's tonight.
She was with a man.
I heard them say the brakes were cut."
Silence.
One of his men stepped forward.
"Boss, she could be lying.
She could be one of them."
Dante didn't look away from me.
"What did he look like?
The man with my wife."
"Tall.
Dark suit.
A scar along his jaw.
She called him Nico."
Something shifted in Dante's expression.
Not shock.
Something colder than shock.
"Get her in the car," he said quietly.
"Mr.
Moretti, I just want to go home—"
"You're not going home tonight." He was already walking toward the SUV.
"Because the man you just described is supposed to be in Rome.
He's been there for six months."
He stopped and turned back.
"And he's my brother."
My stomach dropped for the second time that night.
One of the men wrapped a jacket around my shoulders and guided me toward the convoy.
Before I stepped in, I caught a glimpse of Dante's face in the headlights.
He wasn't angry.
May you like
He was grieving.
And that terrified me more than the g*ns ever had.
