Page 58 of The Woman at the Funeral

He wanted me to know.

He wasn’t going to hurt me for asking questions and drawing conclusions.

“Wait. Did Matthew work for you?”

“No. I mean it,” he said when my disbelief was clear on my face. “It wasn’t for lack of trying on his part. And while capos do have a lot of free will, my boss had put his foot down whenit came to Matt. He didn’t think he could be trusted. And, as it turns out, he was right about that.”

“That’s why Matthew’s murder didn’t seem shocking to you.”

“Not to be that guy, Blair, but you didn’t seem shocked by it either.”

“No,” I agreed, sighing. “He’d been strange the few months leading up to our separation. It’s what gave me the final push. I think I would have kept trying to work on it if his behavior hadn’t become so erratic.”

“Erratic how?”

“He would go to bed with me, but I would wake up not long after to find him gone. I would go looking for him, and he would be pacing and talking in hushed tones on the balcony. And he’d hang up the second he saw me. He would come and go at all hours. He almost looked a little… crazed. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t even showering much. I… God, it sounds so pathetic right now. But I thought he might be cheating.”

“Not even Matt would be that stupid.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think either of us actually knew Matthew at all.”

“That’s unfortunately probably true.”

“We need to get into that safe,” I said, kicking off my heels and charging into the spare room.

I’d been left in the dark for too long.

I needed to know all the secrets my husband had been keeping from me.

The safe was where it had been left when the guy had tried to steal it—on its side just outside the spare room closet.

Determination had me dropping down beside it and forcing all my weight into it, straining until I got it to land back on its little metal feet with a loud thud.

“Do you have any idea what he might have used for a code?” Nico asked, crouching down. “Your wedding date, maybe?”

The laugh that escaped me was just a tad more bitter than I liked. “Please. He never remembered our wedding date. Or my birthday.”

“Blair…”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, trying to brush it away.

“It’s not.”

I glanced up, finding myself closer to Nico than I’d realized. Those gorgeous blue eyes. His warmth. The spicy scent of him.

Without warning, desire pinged off each nerve ending.

“Do these things time out?” I asked, my mouth suddenly dry. “Like if I try too many times?”

“Yeah. You probably have three guesses before it will lock up for twenty-four hours. Or for good, without a key. Depends on the model.”

“No pressure, though, right?”

“If it locks down, there are still ways to get it open.”

“Is that super-secret mafia knowledge?” I teased.

His eyes warmed.

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