Page 81 of Last Hand

TWENTY-ONE

Leone

The office is dark, the only light coming from the glass decanter catching the desk lamp’s glow. Whiskey untouched. I haven’t poured a glass. Not tonight.

I made a promise to Rocco. Told him I’d look into helping him get Sienna back when the dust settled. The dust hasn’t settled, still I owe him more than promises.

I pick up my phone and call Volkov.

No answer. I don’t try again. Knowing that bastard will be harder to deal with than her father.

I scroll down to Dominic’s number. Her father. A miserable bastard, but smart businessman, unfortunately not so smart in the husband and father department. Still, he is the kind of man who doesn’t sleep easy, like me. Like all of us. So I hit call. He answers on the second ring.

“Leone,” he says, voice tired. “It’s late.”

“And you’re still awake, old man.”

“You calling to cash in some favor I forgot I owe?”

“No,” I say. “I want to meet. It’s about Sienna.”

The line is quiet for a second. Then he laughs. Not amused. Just some broken sound that crackles through the phone.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

I frown, Dominic doesn’t usually turn down my meetings, rarely in fact. “Why?”

“I’ve got a funeral to plan.”

The words hang in the air for a moment before they make sense. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say carefully. “If there’s anything I can do?—”

“Yeah,” Dominic interrupts. “Go back in time and make sure I listen to you.”

I stop, falling still hearing that. “What?”

“I should have listened to you,” he says. “Volkov killed her. On their honeymoon. She’s dead, Leone.”

Something in my chest shifts. I press my palm against the edge of the desk in horror.

“She didn’t make it home from the honeymoon,” Dominic continues. “And I didn’t ask questions. I thought… I thought she was choosing to stay away because she was still angry with me. Thought that she’d call. Instead, he buried her and sent flowers to her mother like he was grieving her, too.“So… I’m looking at his body right now actually. Miserable bastard didn’t even get her a headstone, just buried her next to the other ones like a shrine of wives in his gardens.”

I can’t speak.

“She trusted me,” Dominic finishes, voice cracking. “And I got her killed, my only daughter.”

The call ends with no goodbyes.

I sit there for a long time, phone in hand, thumb hovering over the screen like I could undo the last minute if I tapped hard enough.

There’s no undoing this.

Sienna is dead. And I now have to break that news to Rocco.

I lean forward, rest my elbows on the desk, and close my eyes. Another weight. Another coffin to bury.

There’s a knock on the office door.

Milo pushes it open, peering in. “Your mother’s here,” he says. “To say goodbye to Dante.”

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