Page 48 of Dark Romeo

“I bet you’re good at anything you put your…hands to.” He gave me the hint of a smile.

I felt my cheeks heat at the suggestiveness of his words. An image of my hands wrapped around his shaft assaulted my senses before I slammed it back away into a corner of my mind.

Focus, Julianna.

“You never answered my question earlier. You were supposed to have left Verona. Sunday night, if I’m correct. Why didn’t you?”

Now Espo’s eyes were burning into the side of my head. How did I know Roman was supposed to have left? This information wasn’t on his file. I would have to figure out some excuse for my information. But not right now.

“Plans changed. Trust me, it was not my intention to stay. My father can be very persuasive.”

Espo pulled a photo out of the file, shooting me a look, before turning back to Roman. “Do you know this man?”

Roman’s eyes flicked down to the photo that Espo had pulled out of his file. It was Vinnie’s arrest photo blown up to A4 size. I didn’t take my eyes off Roman, holding my breath, as he pulled the photo towards him. I searched his face for any sign of recognition. I didn’t see any.

“No. Who is he?” Roman asked.

“His name is Vincent Torrito. Otherwise known as Vinnie.”

“Vincent Torrito,” he repeated. I swore I heard a slip of sadness in his voice.

“He’s a known associate of the Veronesi family. The same family who is rumored to have murdered your brother.”

There was something unsaid in Roman’s eyes. I couldn’t decipher it. He pushed the photo back towards me. “I don’t know him.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Take another look.”

“I assure you, Detective Capulet, I don’t know this man.”

“You haven’t asked why we’re so interested in this man,” Espo said.

Roman leveled his stare at my partner. “I assume because you fine detectives are asking me about him that a misfortune has happened to this… Mr. Torrito, did you say his name was?”

“Where were you Sunday night?” I asked.

His eyebrow lifted, a questioning look. “Do you have a specific time in mind?”

Yes, you fucker. What were you doing after you left me at your hotel room? “How about you tell me everything you did from, say, seven o’clock.”

“You think I was involved?”

“Just answer the question.”

“In fact,” inserted Espinoza, “start with where you were Friday night, then go through step by step what you did that weekend, ending with Sunday night.”

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

Espinoza was trying to establish Roman’s whereabouts not only for the murder but for during the time frame when Vinnie could had been kidnapped. I was going to be sick. Roman had been with me.

“You want my exact whereabouts…from Friday afternoon,” repeated Roman, “until Sunday.”

“Exactly,” said Espinoza.

Roman stared at me. “You want every detail?”

My body, already taut as a drum, tightened further. This was where it was going to come out, our time together. I was his fucking alibi for the abduction.

I was so fucked. I should speak up now, pull Espo out into the hallway and explain before Roman spilled everything, in detail, right here on record.

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