Page 32 of The Wages of Sin

I was in a whole world of trouble, and I had no idea what I was going to do.

Chapter Eleven

DORIAN

Iwas leaning against the kitchen counter, finishing a cup of coffee and watching the clock when ten o’clock came and went.

As expected, it had been a tough week. Like me, Gabriel and Matteo weren’t thrilled by the news that Bonetti had been keeping information on our father’s murder. They were even more disappointed that he’d died before he could say more.

We’d all agreed not to share the news with Sal. If he’d been involved in even a fraction of the shit Bonetti mentioned, there was no way we could trust him.

So, we decided to keep our investigation between the three of us until we managed to dig up some tangible proof.

The twins would search the D’Angelo home for evidence while I called the contacts on Bonetti’s phone and asked a few discreet questions.

Even though there was no love lost between me and Sal, I didn’t want to believe that he’d been involved in Giuseppe’s death. Even as someone who made his living off murder, the thought of a man killing his own brother made me sick.

Finishing the last sip of coffee, I looked up at the clock again.

10:07

Uneasy, I put the mug down on the counter. Kiera was always on time, sometimes chiming the doorbell a quarter before ten. She didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would be late if she could help it.

So, maybe she couldn’t help it, I tried to tell myself.

Maybe her subway train had been delayed. Maybe her usual walking route had been shut down for construction.

At 10:15, I was pretty damn sure it wasn’t any of those things.

At 10:20, I was convinced.

I reached for my phone and dialed Jane.

I knew something was wrong when the woman waited five full rings before picking up the call. She’d never left me waiting more than two.

“Hello, Mr. Marchetti.”

I caught a slight waiver in her voice. That wasn’t a good sign. I’d never known Jane to be anything other than the embodiment of calm professionalism.

I got right to the point. “Where is she, Jane?”

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath before letting out a long, worried sigh. “I knew I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.”

The little hairs along the back of my neck stood up as concern rushed through me. “Where the fuck is she, Jane?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But if she’s as smart as she seems, then she’s a long way from New York by now.”

My free hand curled into a fist. My other one clenched the phone so tight I feared I was about to crush it into a thousand useless pieces.

I couldn’t help the reaction. Fear and worry weren’t emotions I had a lot of experience with.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“I’m not sure,” Jane said. “All I know is that since last Wednesday night, my phone has been ringing off the hook with calls from members of the Costa family demanding her address.”

My chest tightened. “Tell me you didn’t give it to them.”

“Of course not,” Jane said. “Do you think anyone would work for me if I handed out personal information every time a few mid-level thugs tried to intimidate me?”

---