Page 86 of Gin & Trouble

He shook his head. “I can’t help her.”

Nico sighed. “My father tricked her into trying to poison the Marchionnis, but her involvement in Joe’s murder…”

I wanted to argue. To set the record straight. To tell them Tommaso had ordered the hit, but the wrong Marchionni brother had gotten into the rigged vehicle. However, it wouldn’t do any good. I needed proof, and despite my best efforts, I hadn’t found any.

“Will you forget about the DNA test?” Marco leaned forward again. “If not for Dante’s sake, for my father’s? He’s a dying man. Does he need to go to his grave knowing his wife was unfaithful? That his son wasn’t his blood?”

Nicolina folded her arms and looked away.

I didn’t know her, but I had the feeling she knew something. Something Marco wasn’t telling me. “You’re asking me to choose your family over my sisters?”

“I’m asking you to do the right thing. Enzo could have been killed today. We don’t know what sort of recovery he’s facing.” He stood and strode to the bar.

“And you are running out of time. Tommaso has Sophia.” Nico shot her husband asorry-not-sorrylook.

I couldn’t take any more surprises. My battered heart limped along as it was, but Nico’s words threatened to stop it altogether. “Did you get word from Sicily? Is she okay?”

Marco knocked back his scotch. “I haven’t been able to get confirmation on her condition since Tommaso put her on the plane.”

“How do you know he has her?” I’d scoured the feeds but could never find the footage of that night. I knew the answer. Deep in my gut, I knew. But I needed to hear him say it.

“Dante has the recording.” Marco looked at me as if I were a poor, stupid child. “He kept it from you because he worried you’d do something foolish.”

I nodded silently but screamed on the inside. Dante knew how concerned I was that Sophia hadn’t answered my calls. He knew I was scared to death something had happened to her, and he’d let me suffer? Why? Because he thought I’d, what? Storm my family’s compound with guns blazing?

Nico moved to the seat beside me and rested her hand on mine. “Frankie, it was wrong of him to keep it from you, but Dante’s heart was in the right place.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m a big girl. I’ll get over it.” I folded my arms. “As for the DNA results, I need time to consider my options.”

Nico lowered her voice. “You and I both know Sophia won’t go through with a wedding.”

Marco glanced out the window, nodded to someone on the tarmac, and turned back to me. “Think about it. Make your decision. But don’t take too long. It’s only a matter of time before Tommaso realizes she’s of no use to him and puts a bullet in her head.”

Nico gasped.

Me? I sat, staring straight forward, trying desperately to figure out how I’d gone from waking in Dante’s arms to this.

26

Dante

The tripto the airport was taking for-freakin’-ever.

Rather than berating the chauffeur for driving like my one-hundred-year-old grandmother, I checked in with my mom.

“Dante, where in the world did you go?” Her sharp voice took me off guard. As far as I knew, she hadn’t left the hospital. Then again, when did my mother ever let a little thing like being in public get in the way of scolding one of her children?

“I’m looking for leads on the shooter. How’s Enzo?”

“In recovery. The doctors say he’s going to need to take it easy for a little while, but he’ll be home before Christmas.” She whispered a little prayer and made a kissing sound, likely sending her gratitude to the Big Guy. “As for the shooter, Leo is convinced it has something to do with that Senator Meriwether character, but you don’t think so…do you?”

If only it were that simple—a crazy politician attempting to knock off his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend in one day. Okay, maybe that wouldn’t be simple for Leo, but it sure as hell would take the pressure off me.

“I’m not sure, Ma.”

Her voice lowered to a hiss that reminded me of standing in corners, groundings, and beating with wooden spoons. “What’s going on between you and Francesca Abruzzo?”

I should have expected the question, debated the appropriate response, drafted a statement, but I didn’t. Instead, I told the truth. “I’m in love with her, but it’s over.”

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