Page 63 of A Sinner's Virtue
“Why the fuck would anyone be after Zoe?”
“Good question, but the stupid cunt I shot tonight was pointing the end of his barrel at Zoe, not me,” I say. “Tell your boy he’s not walking into a fucking bedroom to look at my girlfriend.” I hang up the call and pocket my phone.
A second later, Ivan’s phone is ringing and he’s glaring at me as he answers it.
“Santo, follow me.” I start back up the stairs.
“You just going to leave this Russian prick here in our house?” Santo growls.
“Yes,” I grunt. “Leave him. He’s here for Zoe.”
“I don’t care if he’s here for the fucking Pope. Fucker shouldn’t be here at all, Marcello,” Santo says, catching me halfway up the stairs.
“I need you to check on El. I think she’s putting on a brave face, but tonight shook her,” I tell him.
“Okay, but you gotta get the Russian out of the house,” he throws out over a shoulder as he stomps back down the stairs again.
I find Zoe roaming around the hallway, staring at old pictures on the walls. I look up at the cameras. That fucker has hacked into our security system. I make a mental note to make a major upgrade first thing in the morning. “Zoe, babe, I thought you were in bed.”
“Your family has really good genes, you know. There are no ugly ones. Like at all,” she says.
“Really? Maybe you need glasses, babe. My brothers are all butt ugly. You got the best-looking one in the bunch. Trust me.” I wink at her.
“Oh, I did. I know that, but they’re not ugly.” She frowns. “Maybe that’s the curse, you know? Someone wanted good-looking children, so they made a deal with the devil.”
“That’s not the curse,” I tell her.
“Mikhail thinks I’m cursed,” she says.
“What?”
“There was a bird at my window. It means death or something in Russia. It’s nonsense of course,” she explains while waving a dismissive hand.
“He said a bird at your window means death?”
“The bird tapping at the window is a warning, of death coming. I think he’s had one too many vodka shots, if you know what I mean.”
“Probably. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s late.” I take her hand in mine, overcome by this sudden need to hold her tight and not let go.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Iwake up alone in a strange room. No, not a strange room. Marcel’s bedroom. He really needs to let me redecorate.
My mouth is so dry. Argh.
I climb out of the bed and head for the adjoining bathroom. After freshening up, I find a new toothbrush in the cabinet and use it to brush my teeth. Trying to erase the awful taste in my mouth. As soon as my teeth don’t feel like they have a coating of fur on them, I comb my fingers through my hair before helping myself to Marcels closet. I pull down one of his hoodies and throw it over my head. It’s so long it’s practically a dress on me.
Then I walk out of the room and head downstairs. I have no idea where he is. And, honestly, it’s probably going to take me an hour just to find him in this house. Unless I ask one of the many men standing around. I find one of them at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey, um, do you know where Marcel is?” I ask.
The guy stares at me like I’m some kind of alien for a full minute before he clears his throat. “Games room. Down that way, third door on the left,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say, moving in the direction he pointed.
I don’t find Marcel in the games room. I do, however, find one of his brothers. Santo. The one I haven’t met yet. I’ve met the other three, although briefly. Santo looks up at me, and there’s a deadness in his eyes that takes me back to another time.
“Sorry… I was looking for Marcel,” I say, suddenly feeling like I need to flee.
