Page 39 of Hot-Blooded Killer

I nod my head in acknowledgment. After all, that had been my plan—for no one to see what was coming.

“My brother Elio is pissed,” Nico adds. “He was pretty sure he had Gia locked down—that he was going to slide in there and take over the Rossi family fortune.”

I realize from his expansive hand gestures and the slight slurring of his words that Nico’s already half drunk.

This might be a good time to get information out of him.

Nico is the DeSantis family equivalent of—well, of me. The easy-going, even-tempered brother.

At least publicly.

I don’t know if he hides a dark side like the one I’ve developed in the last five years. But it doesn’t matter. His friendly side is out today, and I decide to take the opportunity to gather as much information from him as I can.

“Did Elio and Edoardo have an agreement?”

“Not officially,” Nico says.

“What about unofficially?”

Nico gives another expansive hand gesture that might loosely be interpreted as a shrug and makes a noncommittal noise. “Meh. You know how these things are. Lots of innuendo, a few offhand comments, maybe even a handshake deal. But nothing official.”

My vision darkens for an instant, and rage begins to bubble up inside me.

I’m starting to think Edoardo Rossi has been promising his daughter—my wife—to anyone he thought might be interested.

Anyone who could offer him something valuable in return.

“Hey, is it true that Gia negotiated her own wedding contract with you?” Nico asks as an afterthought.

My stomach clenches, and suddenly I realize exactly what has happened.

Edoardo Rossi left himself an out.

By allowing Gia to negotiate our agreement, he’s given himself room to claim that she was the architect of her arrangement with me.

Even if everyone in town knows that he lost her in the bet to me, they also know that under normal circumstances, those kinds of bets are easily shifted over to a cash basis.

I say goodbye to Nico, more distracted than I should be when dealing with other members of the Mafia, but I need to find out what other stories are circulating.

By the time I finish my circuit of the current Mafia-heavy social scene, I’ve heard more stories than I can count.

I was right. The more I talk to people, the more I figure out that Edoardo Rossi has promised his daughter to practically every family that has any connection to the mob.

About half of them think that Gia insisted on breaking her father’s word and that he is just too loving a parent not to follow her wishes.

The other half think I have some hold over the Rossi family. They would be just as happy to see me wiped out.

They all wanted her because they believed it would give them a lever to use against the Rossis.

But as far as I can tell, not a single one of them wanted Gia for herself.

Neither did you, a tiny voice inside my head whispers, and I shove it down.

No matter how I started this marriage, I’m beginning to realize that part of me wants it to be real. And besides, that’s not important. Not right now.

Because the biggest story going around is that El Toro wants Gia for his eldest son.

And if he can’t have her, he’d rather see her dead.

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