Page 80 of Throne of Secrets

His father scoffed. “When are you going to marry that girl?”

“Shit, Dad, we’ve only been together for three months.”

“And you knew her six months before that. I knew your mom was the one right away. Well, after I defrosted her, that is.” Ethan heard his mother in the background. “Ouch. I meant that in the nicest way, babe.” His dad was so wrapped around his mom’s finger.

“I know Star is the one, but I don’t want to scare her off.” Ethan shook his head.

“Right. The only one scared is you. You’re being a chicken-shit. Ask her and bring your asses home.” The line went dead. Ethan looked at the phone and then laughed. “What a dick.” But his dad was right, he needed to get off his ass and ask her to marry him. He loved her, and she loved him. Had they admitted it to each other? Yeah, many, many times. Nothing was holding him back from asking her … except his nerves. Ethan scrubbed his face. He wasnevernervous. Never. Why was this simple act freaking him out? “He’s right. You need to man up.” Star was it for him. She was his first thought in the morning and his last before he went to sleep. The woman made his world more interesting, chaotic, and ridiculously alive.

It wasn’t like Star had any ties to the house other than wanting to finish what she’d started. He had no ties to the area either, except for Star. Yeah, he was ready to go back to Colorado. He wanted Star to meet his mom in person and see his home. To fall in love with the solitude, the beauty of nature, and the idea of self-sufficiency. It was the way he was raised, and it was where he always knew he’d return. Sighing, he pushed off the kitchen counter. Thor made his way to the back door. “Yep, let’s go.”

The chill in the air was sharp. He waited for Thor to take a quick break, and they both jogged up the stairs he’d built months ago. He knocked once, inserted the key into the door, and walked in. Thor trotted ahead of him as he closed and locked the door. The electricity had been fixed, and she’d also had the heater replaced. The house was toasty warm. He walked into the living room, and she smiled at him. “This is a nice treat.”

Ethan dropped beside her, and she gave him a kiss that promised more and left him wanting. Star was an addiction he never wanted to recover from.

He dropped his arm over her shoulder as they reclined on the couch. “What have you got?"

“I was pulling out that old medicine cabinet in the guest bathroom. I told you about that last night when we were eating dinner.”

“I remember. That doesn’t explain these?” He tipped his chin toward the books. “Is that wax paper?”

She handed him one of the old, wax-cloth-covered books. "Waxed cloth, actually. See? When I pulled out the metal cabinet, these were stacked like this behind it, and they went up the wall between the studs. I think I got them all out.”

“What are they?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, really. Accounting of some kind?"

Ethan carefully unwrapped one of the books, flipped it open, and scanned the handwritten entries. The numbers were precise, methodical. The names? Not so much. He frowned, flipping a few more pages, then exhaled through his nose.

"Star."

"Yeah?"

"You were having a good streak there. A solid run of non-life-threatening months." He flipped another page and sighed. "I’d say that time is over."

She snorted. "Oh, come on, it’s just old bookkeeping."

Ethan turned the book toward her and tapped a line. “Don Giovanni – Shipment cleared – $250,000.” He flipped a few more pages, tapping another entry. “These are bank account numbers.” Ethan tapped the column to the right. “Which means the payments are traceable.” He kept reading. “L. Moretti – Retainer received – 10% of total payout.”

Star blinked. "Who’s Don Giovanni? Or, uh … Moretti?"

Ethan closed the book, resting his forearms on his knees. "Don Giovanni is one of the biggest mob bosses in the northeast. Moretti ran operations for him in Chicago. Giovanni has his sons running the show now. Moretti is dead. These aren’t just books, Star. These are ledgers. Records. Your great uncle kept detailed financials on crime families and hid them in the bathroom wall."

Star stared at the books like they might sprout fangs. "Huh."

"Huh?" Ethan scoffed. "That’s all you got? Huh?"

Star shrugged. "Well … it explains all the holes in the walls, doesn’t it?”

Ethan blinked and then nodded. “It does. It also means that someone knows or suspects your great uncle kept duplicates of the books he did for those families.”

She lifted wide eyes to him. “That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

“Nope, afraid not.”

She ran her hands through her hair. “But … it’s not like I knew they were there."

Ethan gave her a dry look. "Doesn’t matter. They’ll know where it came from."

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