Page 59 of Unholy Vows (Original Sin)

18

CHARLIE

Iwoke with a pounding headache and fear churning in my gut.

The bug.

I had to plant it today. I lay in bed for a long moment. At some point, Lucy had made it back to our room. She was snuggled under the covers, facing me. I studied her sleeping face. What was I going to do? It was bad enough being forced to marry into this family, but now, the police were pushing me into betraying them, too.

Soon enough, I’d have a target on my back so big it would be visible from space. Just like the rat in the maze I’d always been, the walls were finally closing in, and the exits were barred.

Detective Vane had been clear. Plant the bug before lunchtime today, or they’d come and arrest Lucy. She wasn’t stable enough to stay quiet during an interrogation. She’d break; she was already bursting at the seams, barely holding it all in. She’d crack and tell the truth, and Renato would take her out.

My father’s rosary beads were wrapped around her fist. I stared at the round beads and touched one with the tip of my finger. Lucy shifted, and the entire chain fell into my hand.

I got up quietly, washed my face, and shoved on a borrowed oversized sweater and leggings. I wrapped the rosary around my wrist for good luck. Then I took the tiny bug from the envelope, clutched it carefully in my palm, and made for the doorway.

* * *

I’d gottenSonny off my tail by sending him to the kitchen for some needle and thread. I couldn’t think of anything else on the fly. Since I was sure Carmella would be hot on it, I had to move fast.

I stood outside Renato's office where it connected with the library, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. Since I had free access to the library, being caught there would be far less damning than being caught in the office. I knocked quietly, hoping against hope there wasn’t anyone inside browsing for a book.

No one answered. For once, luck was on my side. I pushed open the door and peeked around the side. The long room was empty. I stepped inside and shut the door.

The double doors that led to Renato’s study stood open. Just the sight of the room transported me back to the first night I’d met the boss of the De Sanctis family. There was a different rug in there now, and no sign of the men who had died there. I felt no sadness for them, and maybe that made me just as much of a monster as Renato, but it was their rash actions that had put us here, in part. I’d never mourn them.

I headed through the connecting doors to the study. Where should a bug go? Near a phone, maybe, or somewhere people would be talking. Did I even care about finding the best place? No. I didn’t. All Detective Vane said was I had to plant it. She didn’t say where.

I headed toward Renato’s desk. It didn’t have a lot on it, and there were no easy places to put the bug where it wouldn’t stand out. A plant sat on the corner of the desk, and before I could overthink it, I dropped the bug into its soil. It seemed to disappear in the dirt.

There. I did it.

“Charlotte?” Renato’s voice spoke from just behind me.

I whirled around, my ass coming to rest on his desk.

Crap. In my haste, I hadn’t noticed that the floor-to-ceiling door leading from the library to an outside patio area was ajar. He must have been out there the whole time. Had he seen anything?

“I-I was looking for you,” I said. My mind was drawing a blank about what to say. How could I explain being here?

“Were you?” Renato asked, approaching. He had a cashmere sweater on, and the V-neck revealed the golden skin of his collarbones. With his dark waves pushed off his forehead, and his sweater sleeves rolled back to his elbows, he was the picture of effortless elegance with a lethal edge. It was a lot to handle so early in the morning.

“Yes, I—”

My words died as he reached the desk and peered down at the place he’d caught me leaning over. The goddamn plant. He was going to see the bug.

“I was thinking about last night,” I blurted.

He looked curious, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from his mission. He headed toward the other side of the table, getting closer to the bug.

I panicked and reached up to touch his face. He immediately stilled. His cheek was chiseled under my palm and I allowed myself the indulgence of sliding my fingers over his stubble. The raspy feel sent a liquid heat pooling deep in my belly.

His eyes snapped to mine, and his expression was burning. “Is that right?” He made no effort to move my hand from its intimate position, cradling his cheek. He moved his arms to either side of me on the desk, caging me in.

It dawned on me, dimly, that I might have jumped from the frying pan into the fire, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.

“And what exactly were you thinking about?”

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