Page 14 of Deadly Sins: Greed

How was Falcon affiliated with this man?

And if Falcon had wanted me dead, why was he killed instead of me?

“Falcon wantedmedead? Why? I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” I saw the shadow of a man step out from behind a counter, not enough for me to get a good look, but enough for me to know his location. “You didn’t see me in the parking lot by chance. You saw what Falcon wanted you to see when he wanted you to see it.”

I thought back to earlier in the hospital room, to the moment when Falcon had stood next to me, so close it pushed me toward the window.

“Why am I alive and he’s dead?”

“You’re a little slow for a private detective.”

“Am I? Bette wasn’t skimming money, was she?”

“No, she was not. Falcon was. Bette found out, and Falcon hired me to get rid of her before Giovanni returned from a business trip and learned what was really going on.”

“But Giovanni is smart—too smart to believe a woman like Bette, a woman who had always been loyal would turn on him after so many years. And when he suspected something was amiss, Falcon hired you again, this time to kill Giovanni.”

“It seems I misjudged you.”

“But you didn’t kill him because you knew who Giovanni was, knew what he was worth, and you saw an even bigger opportunity.”

“Falcon’s a hothead, the kind of man I don’t do business with. But in this instance, I realized there was a way to get what I wanted and take him out at the same time.”

Giovanni’s eyes fluttered open. He looked down, noticed he was tied to the chair, then looked up and squinted at me. “Sloane? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” the man said. “About time.”

He walked toward us, his gun aimed at Giovanni’s head. He was tall. Really tall. And polished. Wearing a pair of fitted, black slacks and a button-down shirt, and sporting a short, dark hairstyle that reminded me of Cary Grant. He pressed the butt of the gun to Giovanni’s head and said, “Where’s the rest of the money, Miss Monroe?”

Giovanni yanked at his restraints to no avail. He glanced up at me, defiant and mad. It was the first time I’d ever seen him weak, the first time he wasn’t the one who had the upper hand.

“Why are you here, Sloane?” Giovanni said. “You shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have put yourself in danger.”

“Decision time, Sloane,” the man said. “You didn’t come all this way just to watch me kill him, did you?”

As soon as I gave up the location of the rest of the money, we were both dead, no matter what he said.

Up to now, I’d kept one hand flattened on the side of my leg. I jerked it upward, jamming the knife I’d concealed into the man’s neck. He staggered back, and I used what few seconds I had to cut through the zip-ties on Giovanni’s wrists. Freed from the chair, Giovanni attempted to stand, but the remaining effect of the drug still had a strong hold on him, and he stumbled, bracing his fall by grabbing my arms.

Although I’d thrust the knife with all the force I had, the knife hadn’t penetrated the man’s neck like I’d intended. Enraged, he aimed his gun again. With Giovanni still leaning on me, I had no time to reach for my own.

I was left with no means of defense.

Wewere left with no means of defense.

“Forgive me, cara mia,” Giovanni said. “Forgive me. At last I’ve truly failed you.”

“The money,” the man said.

“You’ll never find it,” I said, “unless you put the gun down.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact. Two shots rang out, and when my eyes reopened, my breath caught in my throat. The bullets had spared us both, instead lodging into the back of the man’s head. Salvadore and a man holding a gun at his side rushed forward.

“Sloane, this is Vincenzo,” Salvadore said. “He’s ...ahh ... the best at what he does.”

Salvadore shifted his attention to the dead man on the ground.

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