Page 14 of Promise Maker

“His body wasn’t.” I clench and unclench my fists.“Wasn’t he Bishop’s right hand?”

“Sì,” he rumbles, a mistof fury clouding his ashen eyes. “I’ll getSanteonhim. And where the fuck is your sister? We need to stay together. It’s toodangerous.”

“She didn’t answer your call?”

He huffs at the question. “No. Probably at someclub.”

“I’ll try her phone. She’ll pick up if it’s me.”

“Of course.” He throws his hand up. “Fran is justlike her grandmother at times. So reckless. That’s why that woman is in thegrave.”

I hear the front door and pivot, putting my phoneaway as Francesca sashays into the office, her heels clattering on the marbletile.

“What the hell happened?” She tosses her purseinto the chair. “Why’d you send Rodrigo for me? I was having a blast.”

“Bishop Brigham is dead,” Father informs her, toneharsh. “Murdered.”

“Dio…” Her steely-grayeyes expand. She flicks to me. “Suafiglia?”

“Solari’supstairs.She’s possibly the only survivor from the massacre.”

Francesca slowly sinks into the chair, hand at herheart. “Was it Rossi? You said he’s ambitious. That he’s expressed interest inBrigham’s shipping yard.”

“He was trying to buy him out,” Father explains.“It wasn’t him. Rossi is too afraid of me.”

“Then who?” I grunt, twisting to him. “If Mathewis involved, he’d need someone bold to carry out the killing.”

“Indeed.” His jaw twitches. “Santewill find him. We leave for Sicily in the morning. They killed the one person Itrusted in Lakewood. I’d rather be at home should an attack be made on myfamily.”

“I’m bringing Solari with us,” I declare.

Both look at me.

“She isn’t safe here,” I add. “I promised Bishop.I’ll protect her.”

“The last living Brigham,” Father mutters. “Ofcourse, they’ll be looking for her. I know Bishop. He left everything toSolari, including ownership of that shipping yard.”

“Soit’s final.” I liftmy chin, determined. “Solari comes with us.”

Father steps closer. “Agrigento isn’t Lakewood,Nico. You will expose the girl to brutality far worse than what she’s everexperienced in her sheltered life here.”

“Tonight’s horror has surely left hertraumatized,” Francesca chimes, followed by a curse in our mother tongue.“Losing her father is just awful, and I’m sure she’s never seen dead bodiesbefore.”

“Yes,” Father hums. “She will need a strong heartto survive in Agrigento.”

Jaw taut, I look from one to the other and saywith certainty, “I’ll make her strong.”

No way I’ll leave her behind again.

5

I haven’t slept.

I’m in a deep state of grief.

Myheart’snever sufferedsuch emotional pain where even breathing hurts.

Knocking on the door frightens me into grippingthe sheet tightly.

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