Page 61 of The Woman at the Funeral

Once I was done with that, I rushed across the hall, slipping my feet into flats, then making sure I had my phone, a charger, my cards, and a stash of cash.

In case, I dunno, I had to go on the run or something.

I wouldn’t pretend to know anything about how a situation like this would play out. I just knew I liked to be prepared for any eventuality.

If Nico took any longer, I might have started to pack a go bag. But by the time I shoved a small paring knife into it and pulled my bag on my shoulder, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“It’s me,” Nico called, but I checked the camera anyway before unlocking.

“Okay. Brio is going to be out front in seven minutes,” he said, walking over toward the box and lifting it into one hand, leaving his other free to, I assumed, reach for his gun if it was necessary.

“Who is Brio?”

“Someone you want on your side if you’re feeling threatened. You don’t hate dogs, do you?”

“No. I love dogs. Why?”

“Don’t remember the last time I saw Brio without at least one with him.”

“Oh okay. I wouldn’t mind something to cuddle with on the way to… whatever this is going to be.”

“Hey,” Nico said, coming over to me. He reached out and tipped my chin up a little higher. “Nothing is gonna happen to you. Alright?”

“Alright.”

He was a criminal.

A mafia member.

There was no logical reason for me to trust him.

Yet, somehow, I did.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nico

I’d been coming to terms with Matt not being the friend—or man—that I believed him to be.

But I’d never suspected he’d been actively working against me. Against my family. Watching us, taking notes on us, plotting against us, ready to sell our lives off to the highest bidder.

My stomach was twisted in a knot as I went down to my apartment, my mind racing off in a million directions.

Most of them had to do with how completely and utterly fucked we would all be if this information got out there.

We’d almost just lost all our lives the night that I’d accidentally interrupted a robbery.

I’d made two quick calls as I got my gun and a few extra magazines. To Lorenzo, basically just telling him the shit had hit the fan and we needed a meeting immediately.

Then to Brio, to get a ride.

Because if you wanted protection, the bloodthirsty lunatic was exactly who you wanted there with you.

It was only a short ride to Lorenzo’s brownstone. Once there, there would be guards at the door and then half of the familywould descend on the townhouse once they knew what was going on.

“Oh, hi, buddy,” Blair murmured when I pulled open the backseat to reveal a mutt with the head of a pittie but the hair of a shepherd.

“He’s friendly,” Brio called as Blair tried to nudge him in so she could sit down.

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