Page 99 of Of Murder and Matrimony

“I see,” I acknowledged, carefully schooling my features. My cousin disappeared after his father was found guilty of planning my mother’s murder and attempting to kill Romeo and Riona. “He’s still here?”

“He’s somewhere safe,” DiSanto replied. The elusive prick. “I couldn’t risk somebody punishing him for his father’s sins before I looked into the evidence he gave me.”

“What evidence?” I leaned forward, more interested.

“He didn’t believe his father had devised such elaborate plans alone.” He sipped his whiskey, and I impatiently tapped my shoe on the floor. I swear I saw DiSanto smirk. He was enjoying this. “I was inclined to agree, so I sent men to investigate. They found interesting correspondence in your uncle’s home. Somebody had tried to wipe the electronics, but my men are better than yours.”

I balled my hand into a fist, keeping my damn mouth shut.

“Are you curious who passed down the orders to your father? Who the traitor in your organization is?” He lifted a brow.

“DiSanto, I swear if you don’t get on with your little show, I’ll make sure they change your name from Devil Saint to Toothless,” I growled, balling my hand into a fist.

“You’re rather dull, Dante,” he sighed. “Fine. Take all the intrigue and the big reveal from me. Your father is the mole in his own organization. He had Giuseppe doing his bidding. He used your uncle as a scapegoat and would have eliminated Luca, too.”

“What?” I froze, certain I’d heard him wrong. If what he said was true, there were a multitude of implications I wasn’t sure I was prepared to face.

DiSanto snapped his thick fingers in front of my face. “Pay attention. This is important. Your father filtered information to the Russians.”

“The Russians who killed my mother?” I started piecing things together, my shock transforming into a soul-deep rage.

“Yes,” DiSanto answered without fanfare. “He ordered the bombing. The church shooting. Though, my understanding is he wasn’t supposed to get shot.”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “Why? What would he possibly have to gain?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer everything for you.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh as if it bothered him that he wasn’t omniscient. “But I called your grandfather. He should arrive in Chicago in the next few hours.”

“You called my Nonno in Calabria?” It just kept getting more complicated, and my brain struggled to keep up as I tried not to let the anger inside me win. I’d never truly loved my father. He’d made that impossible. But to murder his own wife?

“I couldn’t stand back and do nothing when your father ordered your death.” DiSanto was completely serious as he met my gaze. My father’s wish for my death stung more than I expected. “You are a better Don. He needs to be put down like the dog he is.”

I nodded my agreement. “I’ll deal with him. You have my word on that. And your favor.”

It was the least I could grant him for virtually handing my traitorous father to me on a silver platter. Anxious to return home as soon as possible, I stood and paced.

“My men will take you back to the airport,” he offered, his heavy hand dropping to my shoulder. “You have the full support of the DiSanto name.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully. “For everything.”

“I’ll let you know when I need that favor,” he called out as I hastily left his office.

I had a feeling I wouldn’t like whatever he asked for, but I couldn’t deny him anything after all he’d done. Filippo and Stefano already awaited me by the front door, bags in hand.

“We’re leaving,” I said curtly, leading the way to the limo out front, where the driver stood holding the back door open. I thanked him and climbed inside, immediately pulling my phone from my pocket and calling Cosimo. When he didn’t answer, I left a voice message for him, then texted him an order to get Olesya out of the house immediately.

I dialed my wife’s number next. When she didn’t answer, my stomach knotted with trepidation. She was in the house with my father, and I had to get her away from a man who had no qualms about murdering those he called family.

I dialed again.

And again.

Finally, my call went directly to voicemail. My chest tightened, my skin turning to ice, and I knew terror like I’d never experienced in my life.

Chapter Thirty

Dante left me frustrated and scared because I couldn’t tell him about Ettore’s threats. Enough bodies littered his reign as Chicago’s Don to prove he didn’t issue empty promises. But to kill your heir? It didn’t say much about the family is everything motto he touted for the benefit of the public.

After a morning in my clinic, I spent the afternoon swimming laps and reading while Diego sought refuge from the hundred-degree weather, still stubbornly wearing his suit and tapping away at his phone. The shadows lengthened, and I stood and stretched when the pool was in full shade.

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