Page 162 of Cruelest Contract
“Let me at least show you to the kitchen,” I say.
She shakes her head. “No need. I remember where it is.” She takes a step, then stops and turns around. “Teresa was my friend. And I was here…that day.”
“Oh,” I reply with surprise. I remember Julian telling me that his mother’s friend happened to stop by and discovered her murdered body. He also said Getty and Fort must have been alone in the house for hours.
“You were good friends?” I ask.
“Yes.” A sad smile touches her lips. “Very good friends.”
“Thank you for being here,” I say. “I know I speak for the whole family when I say how much we appreciate your help.”
“We’re neighbors, Cecilia,” she says. “No thanks necessary.”
Once she’s walked down the corridor and turned a corner, I allow my eyes to stray to the spot where Gabriel’s blood has dried and nearly blends in with the dark hardwood floor.
I don’t know what’s been done with my brother’s body. Sonny’s men have handled the ghoulish task of collecting the dead.
There was a time when I thought if my twin died then my soul would split in two and I’d never be whole again. But when my husband killed him a few feet from where I’m standing right now, all I felt was relief.
A man’s cough echoes from the opposite hallway. Sonny Vitale lumbers into sight with a sling on his heavily bandaged arm.
He stops short when he sees me standing here. “How is he?”
“He’s not good,” I admit.
Sonny’s chin quivers and he looks down. “Right.” He sniffs. “I’ll give the family some space. You’ll let me know if they need anything?”
“You should go in, Sonny. You’re as good as family.”
He’s a hard man who has seen and done a lot in his life but he gives me a bashful smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
I tip my head toward the room where all the Tempesta men stand guard over their king. “Go on. They’ll be glad to see you.”
He starts to shuffle into the room but then pauses. “He’s hanging out in the library,” he says. “I figured he can’t hurt anything in there but I’m still not giving him his fucking phone or his gun back.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll check on him.”
Sonny frowns. “I ought to go with you. Or you can wait for Johnny and Artie.”
“I’ll be fine with him alone. I think he proved himself today.”
Sonny grunts like he’s not too sure about this but he doesn’t put up an argument.
So much has happened since dinner that I could swear it ought to be daylight but all the windows are still dark and dawn doesn’t break for another few hours.
When I see the pine garlands strung across the walls, I’m stunned to remember it’s Christmas morning. I’d nearly forgotten about the holiday.
Angelo is seated in a reclining chair with his injured leg stretched out in front of him while he grumpily thumbs through a thick leather bound book plucked from a nearby shelf.
He looks up when I walk into the room. “This bullshit doesn’t make any sense.”
I squint at the title embossed on the spine. “It’s The Greatest Works of William Shakespeare.”
Angelo shrugs, unimpressed.
Julian told me that once Angelo escaped from the house he ran straight toward the Tempestas. Injured and unarmed, Angelo ran to my husband anyway, screaming all the while that he needed to save me.
When I think of that terrifying final confrontation with my twin, there’s one inescapable conclusion. If Angelo hadn’t been here, I might not be alive.
