Page 115 of The Merciless King

“When did he say he was leaving? Frank, she might be onto something,” Mama says from the doorway, and I spin around.

How long was she standing there?

I look between them. “He didn’t say. There was just a...”

Damn. I haven’t thought this through. I don’t have any solid evidence or more than a feeling to go on.

No wonder they don’t listen to me.

What am I going to say? Trust my instincts.

Good one.

“Look, doesn’t it sound dodgy to you? Mia Barrett suddenly invites me for a drink and this friend of theirs shows up. Then he has a shipment fall through and needs financing.”

My father shoots a look toward my mother, frowning, but he’s paying attention now.

Finally.

“We went to their place for dinner last night and something was off. I don’t know how to explain it,” I add, but even though I still feel as if I’m missing something, a sense of unease fills me.

A different one.

“You think he is working for Barrett?” Papa asks, shaking his head at me. “Connor Barrett is straight down the middle. He met his wife because Mancini was stupid enough to let his daughter work outside la famiglia.”

“How do you know that?” I ask, surprised that he does.

“It’s my business to know everything.”

Good point, but I’m still surprised. Then again, everyone is up in everyone’s business in these mafia families. Especially the daughters and who they are fraternizing with. I have no doubt that everyone knows I’m sleeping with some contractor my father is now in partnership with.

Even if it has just been a few days.

“I know I can’t be with Braxton. He knows that too. Which I assume is because you told him.” I lean my head on my fist and let out a sigh. “God, maybe I’m going crazy. I think I love him.”

“I can have him killed.” Papa shrugs, but I see the sparkle in his eyes.

Mama snickers.

“No, don’t you dare.” I giggle. “Don’t joke about that.”

“Then what, mia princepessa?” Papa says, glancing at my mother. “Angela take your daughter and do all this female talk elsewhere. You should be preparing for a wedding in a few months.”

I feel myself pale.

It’s the closest he’s come to telling me what Dante did recently.

The wedding is mine. To Leo.

I don’t bother arguing as Mama walks into the office and stands behind my chair. Something is still bothering me, so I try one last time.

I love my family and if the man I have fallen in love with means my family harm, I have to speak up. Italians are known for their loyalty.

Mafia is deadly loyal.

“Papa, I don’t think we can trust him,” I say, as a chill blasts through my heart.

I think I just signed Braxton’s death warrant.

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