Page 77 of Brutal Legacy

I hung up without saying goodbye. “Just because he’s not in the local jail doesn’t mean you didn’t do something to him.”

“Georgia, please, stay calm. I have an idea of what happened… and even some evidence… if you’ll trust me to show you?”

I flinched away when he tried to touch me, folding my arms over my chest. “Show me. I don’t trust you, but I want to see.”

My father nodded and pulled his laptop toward him. “I asked Elio to get the delivery that you were missing earlier. Somehow it ended up at the De Sanctis house. Salvatore’s right-hand man sent me this.”

A CCTV video played. In it, Elio was walking into the kitchen of the De Sanctis house and over to a package and bag on the floor. He grabbed both and left.

“What did the bag have in it?” I asked, lightheaded.

“Nearly one hundred thousand euros,” my father said quietly. “The last he was seen was leaving the property with the bag. The delivery box was abandoned just down the road from the De Sanctis property.”

I stared at my father so long tears burned my eyes. “What are you saying?”

“He took the money,amore, and ran. He was nothing but a hustler, after a quick buck. Getting saddled with a wife at twenty wasn’t in his plans. He’s gone.”

I shook my head. “He wouldn’t go. He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t just leave me,” I said again, pressing a hand to my chest. My heart was beating too hard.

My father’s face was the picture of pity. I couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Then where is he? What could keep him from you?”

I don’t know.

But I was going to find out.

A month later,I was exhausted, but I hadn’t given up, even though the scant information I’d uncovered had pointed to my father’s theory being true.

Today, I was meeting with a taxi driver who the PI I’d hired had tracked down.

I sat in the meeting, numbness creeping over me.

“I gave the young man a ride to the train station. He said he was going to find someone… a girl. Said he had gotten what he needed here. Seemed eager to get gone.”

A girl?His sister, or someone else? A cold feeling flooded my chest.

“He had a bag with him, a leather one. He was gripping it like it had the crown jewels inside. Gave a good tip, though… He hustled into the station, and I went on about my day.”

The driver gave me the once-over, up and down.

“You okay, Signorina Bellisario?”

“Are you sure he came from the De Sanctis estate? He never said his name, right?”

I was clutching at straws, but I couldn’t quit. Not yet.

“No, no names, but he had an accent. He was from Naples.”

It was still circumstantial. It still didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t definitively Elio.

“The only other thing was his eyes,” the driver continued.

The cold dug its claws into my heart.

“They were green, memorable… light and weird.”

Just like that, my heart froze over.

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