Page 169 of A Beautiful Crime

“It needed to be handled,” Tao responds coolly.

“Right,” Pietro drawls with amusement. “The Russian soldier just had to die. Not by anyone’s hands but by yours.”

He says tightly, “He was sniffing around my business. I did what had to be done.”

“Your business or your supposedly dead sister?”

Tao’s eyes are cutting and his voice hardened like a steel blade. “How the fuck do you know what we were talking about?”

Pietro smiles conspiringly. “Eyes and ears are everywhere, Tao. Best to remember that.” He adds with a wink. Cheeky bastard. I smother a smirk.

Tao, on the other hand, fumes silently. Rage fills his eyes and the man who has built himself to have composure becomes unraveled.

Everyone has a weakness. And unfortunately for Tao his sister will always be his Achilles heel. Killing a Russian soldier was a rash decision based on fear. He’ll never admit it of course. But knowing the Russian was close enough to sniffing his sister out had led him to killing without thinking of the consequences. Now Kirill has a piece of the bone he was salivating for. A death of his own from The Triads means his suspicions of Zhen being alive must ring true.

Tao unknowingly and stupidly put a target on his back.

“You do realize you just gave Kirill ammunition.”

Tao responds tightly through terse lips. “I didn’t give him shit.” He turns his attention to me and accusation gleams in his eyes.

Before he can dare question me I remind him of who I am. “I’ll have your tongue if you dare question me, Tao. Your sister’s location has not been shared. Nor will it be as long as you don’t cross me.”

He nods his head stiffly but one can clearly see his cages are still rattled. As much as I admire his fierce need to protect his sister, I need him protecting someone else today, and that’s my soon to be wife.

One who is in the room down the hall surrounded by her family. She would better be left with a pack of starving wolves.

But of course Father Frank couldn’t allow the bride to see the groom before the ceremony.

Fucking Catholic priests and their damn traditions.

At least I can have some semblance of a peace of mind with Gino accompanying her as well.

He’ll slice any one of their throats before they can raise a hand at her.

A rap of knuckles at the door gains all of our attention. The door opens to none other than Father Frank.

He has seen better years yet his genes have blessed him with a handsome face. And even though his eyes may seem kind and not judgmental he has forgiven one too many sinners to be considered clean.

While I want to believe Father Frank is an honest and good man, his involvement with Savio proves me to believe otherwise.

Because a good man with a right conscience would not have allowed an innocent woman to suffer.

As far as I’m concerned he’s just as responsible for her death as they are.

Father Frank surveys the room cautiously. Because even though this is his church where he resides and feels at home, in this room, at this moment in time, he’s a man in uncharted waters.

His smile is tentative at best. “You are to be at the altar as the ceremony is about to begin.”

“Thank you, Frank.”

He clears his throat, correcting me with a trying smile. “Father Frank.”

I cock my head to the side, assessing him in a way to make him uneasy. “I’m sure I had it correct the first time.”

I hear Pietro’s signature snort before he covers the soon to be boisterous laughter with his mouth.

Father Frank’s eyes narrow, as if he’s trying to figure me out. “Do you not have the best relationship with religion?”

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