Page 60 of Gilded Saint

She blanches. “Acquaintances, mostly.”

There’s a story there. “What’s that face for?”

“I didn’t have a lot of friends at university.”

“I call bullshit on that. A sweet girl like you?”

“A student got wind that I was a member of the Lupi Grigi. Rumors have always swirled around my father, even though he’s a business leader. The security guy lurking in the background everywhere I went didn’t help.”

“Were students mean to you?”

“No, not mean. But…distant. No one wants to invite the mafia into their lives. And if they want to, you have to question why.” She shrugs. “It was for the best. I grew close to some people… Jules, for example. His friends. The rumors. The tension. It highlighted how selfish I was being. Putting Jules at risk. Possibly his friends.” Accusation crosses her narrowed eyes. “You know what interrogations can be like. It was better no one knew me well.”

I understand what she’s saying. At far too young an age she had to worry about the safety of anyone coming around her. In that way, she’s like my sisters. Forced to confront mortality and grow up too young. I want to caress her cheek, to tell her none of that was fair, that she deserves so much more, but I hold on to my coffee mug. “What about within your…” I stumble on the wordfamily, because I need a more expansive word. “Network?”

“I don’t… I never clicked with those women. Maybe if I’d gotten married…but…” She shrugs dismissively and pushes off the stool. “Scarlet and Orlando are my two closest friends. You can trust me. I won’t share your secrets with anyone. Not even them.”

My phone buzzes with an alert that the garage code has been entered. It’s Nick. He’s the only one in possession of my code. The building gives each tenant a unique code. I confirm it’s Nick by checking the security cam.

When I step out of my office, I do a double-take at Lina and Willow sitting around the kitchen table. Willow lent Lina clothes. With their hair up in ponytails, nostalgia stabs me. My sisters would often sit just like that, a mug of something, most likely hot chocolate, clasped between their hands while they jabbered about girl stuff.

The doctor came and went, saying he’d send the lab results directly to Nick. I can’t imagine Nick’s heard anything yet.

I stand over the banister, awaiting Nick’s arrival. A moody fog hangs over the city. Traffic alerts reported serious delays on South End Road due to police activity. Up here in the clouds, peace and quiet reign.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Lina asks.

“He has arrived,” I answer.

“I suppose I should change,” she says, pushing out from the table.

“Oh, no. You can take those clothes. It’s fine. And I have some shoes for you, too.” Both women sport thick wool socks.

“Is he in a rush? Or will he stay for a while?” Lina asks, standing over the sink with a mug.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” He’ll be tired after a long day of travel, and given he’ll drive the nearly two hours to his estate, he’ll likely want to get on the road. But he may wish to debrief in the security of my flat before moving on.

Lina tilts her head thoughtfully, then pours more tea from the kettle.

The elevator door slides open, and Nick steps out in a perfect crisp suit and shiny, pointed leather dress shoes. The extensive growth along his jaw means he’s either growing a beard or he hasn’t shaved in days.

“Did you attend church services?”

He snorts derisively. “This is what I was wearing last night.”

As he climbs the stairs, I discern the wrinkles in his shirt and darker circles beneath his eyes. His attention shifts from me to his sister as he climbs the stairs. She holds up her mug in salute, and he shakes his head.

“What?” Lina calls out defensively. “I did nothing wrong.”

He ignores her and steps past me with a curt, “Your office.”

I follow him but glance back at the women. Willow watches over the rim of her mug, and I swear her concern washes over me like a brisk stream. Refreshing and disconcerting.

Nick sinks onto the sofa, and I close the door. Nick keeps Lina in the dark on his business practices, and I sure as fuck don’t want Willow learning anything that could endanger her.

“Did your meetings go okay?” I ask.

“We found Dante. Dead.”

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