Page 145 of Taming Seraphine

When Roman shuts the door and guides us to sit at the sofas by the window, Leroi asks, “What are we dealing with?”

“How did you not suspect that the woman you were fucking was an agent for a rival firm?”

“Not all hitmen come in male packages,” Leroi drawls. “Besides, I wasn’t her target.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The only thing she tried to kill me with was her whining. It’s likely that she was using me to get close to you or gathering intel.”

“Shit.”

Leroi shrugs. “You, of all people, should know how far your enemies will go to take you down.”

Roman threads his fingers through his curls and sighs. “Shit. You’re right.”

My gaze bounces from one man to the other, and I wonder if they’re talking about how Roman got framed for murder. I clear my throat. “Who is Rosalind’s client?”

“Capello,” Roman mutters.

“Did she say?” Leroi asks.

“Cesare got her to admit it. Now he’s working on getting her to name specifics.” He walks to a drinks cabinet, pours a glass of amber liquid, and holds it up as an offering.

Leroi waves him off. “I doubt that she’s even a key player. Some agents infiltrate their target’s household or friend group before a large job. That’s what I did for my last one.”

The corners of Roman’s lips pinch, as though he disapproves of Leroi even referring to murdering the Capello family. It’s a good sign for me because it proves he doesn’t suspect my association with them.

“Benito tells me that Rosalind was a regular at the club. Cesare got her to confess to working with a few others to identify every close associate of my brothers.”

Leroi nods. “Capello must have been planning a massacre months before he died.”

Roman grunts. “Probably wanted to finish the job he started when he got me locked up.”

I shuffle on my feet, my skin crawling at the reminder that Dad was universally evil and not just to me. The worst thing is that I never saw him coming.

“How long have you known Rosalind?” I ask.

“Three, four months,” Leroi mutters.

“The real issue is getting the firm to call off the hit,” Roman says. “I need to find Rosalind’s handler and persuade him that attacking anyone connected to the Montesano family is a deadly mistake.”

Leroi reaches into his pocket and extracts a scrap of paper. “Take this.”

Roman’s brow furrows. “What is it?”

“Rosalind’s sister came by my apartment this morning, thinking she was with me. You can use that family association to persuade Rosalind to talk.”

Roman reaches for the number, but Leroi pulls back. “Promise you won’t hurt the girl?”

He frowns. “How old?”

“That’s not the point. She’s innocent.”

“I won’t fuck with her. Neither will Cesare nor Benito, but Rosalind doesn’t need to know that.”

“Fine.”

“It had better work.” Roman takes the paper and examines its contents. “Otherwise Samson Capello’s survival will be the least of our problems. If we can’t call off that hit, there’ll be a full-scale war.”

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