Page 18 of Promise Maker

“You’llletme? As if.”

Domenico falls quiet, contemplating. Then he says,“I need you to think carefully about last night. Was Mathew there when theshooting started?”

“Mathew?” I repeat while scowling. “Yeah. He wasat the house when Dad and I got back.” My mind wanders, realizing that lastnight will be thelasttime I enjoy soft pretzels and coolattas withhim.

Domenico’s gentle touch pulls me back. “Solari?”

I ease my hand away. “What?”

“Was Mathew in the office with you and Bishop?”

“Yes, he kept a lookout. Why are you asking abouthim?”

“Did he go into the secret passage with you?”

I shake my head. “I went in alone. Dad closed thedoor behind me.”

He lowers his eyes to the armrest, contemplating.

“What is it?” I press. “Is Mathew alive?”

“Possibly. We didn’t see his body last night.”

My eyes enlarge at the spurt of hope. “Where ishe?”

I refuse to believe the suspicion Domenico isimplying in his demeanor.

Mathew has been my dad’s friend and assistant foryears. He wouldn’t hurt him.

“I’ll let you know once we find him.” In hisvoice, I note something frightening. Mathew won’t be in a good state when theyget ahold of him.

“He’s not behind this,” I insist. “Mathew is agood man. He might be injured…terrified, trying to find me.”

Domenico stiffens his jaw. “He either ran off orkilled your father. Both are the actions of a coward.”

“You don’t know him,” I grunt. “You’re justspeculating because that’s what you’re used to seeing. Mathew wouldn’t do anyof those things. He’s loyal.”

Leaning his head to one side, he scoffs at me asif I’m naïve, and that annoys me. “We’ll see, Solari.”

“Your people better not hurt Mathew,” I grumblebefore looking out the window.

My eyes start to feel tired the longer I stare atthe clouds, and soon, my lids fall shut, and my body succumbs to the emotionalexhaustion.

A light nudge at my arm pulls me from sleep, andDomenico’s handsome face comes into view.

“We’ve landed in Palermo,” he says.

I peer out the window. The place is shrouded indarkness with spots of light on the runway.

Men in suits greet us on the airfield as we exitthe jet. Mr. Martelli and Francesca file into one SUV, and Domenico and I enteranother.

Then we start for Agrigento along Sicily’ssouthwest shore. Unfortunately, I can’t experience the full vibrancy of whatI’m sure the place conveys during the day, but it appears just as beautiful atnight.

The cars continue for another few minutes throughthe hilltop city before turning down a long entrance and stopping at tall irongates.

I stare in awe of the massive property as weenter. It’s more akin to a resort than someone’s home, with stacked villa-likequarters overlooking the city.

Slowing to a stop in the courtyard, a gentlemanopens the door for Domenico and me. We walk behind his sister and father intothe main entrance, where a gorgeous older version of Francesca meets us.

---