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“That my father more than likely pissed someone off in the Brambilla crime family, and he’s responsible for her death.” He opened the door and shot a quick look back at me, and I could read his thoughts.
No mercy.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Maria
“You’re asking me that again. In front of everyone here?” Enzo’s father slid his hand down the column of his throat, his back to the bay window. The water was calm today. The sky clear. And yet, the storm was in the room.
“Well?” Constantine stood from behind the desk, his arms locking across his chest. Despite being in battle last night, he was in a three-piece suit.
Enzo reached for my hand and threaded our fingers together, sensing my unease, and maybe I shouldn’t have been in the room, but I refused to leave his side when I knew he needed me.
“I told you last night I had nothing to do with her death, and I’m telling you the same now,” Mr.Costa seethed, clearly upset at his sons for pressing him. “But now that we know someone in the Brambilla family hired the cleaner, I’ll do everything in my power to find out who and why. And I’ll kill them myself.”
Enzo’s grip on my hand tightened as he turned toward the door, and I followed his gaze to see Alessandro there in cargo pants and a black tee. “You have her things?”
Alessandro nodded. “The boxes are in the safe room in case we need them.” He pocketed his hands, leaning against the wall by the door. He looked worn out, like a man who’d fought all night long. And, well, he had. “Where’s Hudson?”
“He’s working on a few contingency plans. Making calls,” Constantine spoke up, and his cryptic words meant I’d be in the dark on that.
I’d never seen Constantine even slightly off-kilter, and he looked like he was ready to throw the laptop now. His facial muscles were locked tight, and his body screamed, Fuck around and find out.
“The Brambillas are ten times more powerful than they were thirteen years ago, and you know they’d love nothing more than a reason to come after us,” Alessandro said, which meant Constantine must’ve given him the heads-up before he’d arrived that the list had been decrypted.
Decrypted? Yeah, not a word I’d ever thought would roll through my thoughts. I was still in Mickey Mouse and Bubble Guppies territory back home.
Enzo released my hand to go for his phone and then shared, “Looks like we gave them extra motivation to do exactly that last night. Jesse just texted they identified some of the downed bodies from our mission. They worked for the Brambillas.”
“The Brambillas also appear to have been one of the cleaner’s most frequent clients. And based on the fact they’re responsible for half a dozen deaths on his list, I can see them wanting to get to the cleaner the second they heard he was on the run,” Constantine noted. “But that still doesn’t explain why someone in their organization wanted our sister to die.”
“They identify anyone else from your op?” Mr.Costa remained standing by the window, eyes on Enzo, jaw moving with a tic. “Or just the Brambillas?”
“It was a clusterfuck of bad guys. Not just them.” Enzo shoved his phone back in his pocket, eyes on me as he added, “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
But without the backup, what would’ve happened? I shuddered to think about it, and why was I? They were okay, and I had to focus on that. Well, okay was a loose term. Okay for now, sure. But later?
“Without knowing who within the Brambilla crime family hired the cleaner, we’ll need to do some more digging ourselves.” Constantine turned on the flat-screen behind the desk and then synced his laptop with the screen. “Footage from outside the club that night thirteen years ago.” He pressed “Play” and turned to the side. “I still think it was someone she knew and she let them into her home. I just don’t know why she’d ever associate with someone from the Brambilla family.”
Constantine paused the screen, and my heartbeat became hostage to my frozen thoughts. Every part of me rooted in place at the sight.
The camera angle wasn’t great, and the screen wasn’t in color, but I could tell it was Bianca.
Enzo walked over to stand by his brothers, so I sat in a nearby leather armchair.
“What if she fell in love with someone in the Brambilla family?” Enzo asked in a low voice, sharing the idea we’d discussed in the theater room.
That had his father’s attention, and he snapped his focus around, his harsh gaze focused on Enzo. “Are you out of your damn mind? Your sister had a heart of gold. She’d never sleep with the enemy.”
“No, I agree with Pops,” Alessandro said. “She’d never.” He looked at Enzo. “Maybe she was writing a nonfiction piece for the magazine, and her research led her somewhere dangerous? She might have notes in one of those boxes in the safe room. We didn’t read over her work files back then because all the evidence had pointed to that guy.”
“You were young,” Mr.Costa said. “No excuse for me. I should’ve questioned things more.”
“I don’t think Bianca would write a Lois Lane–type exposé. It wasn’t her style. She loved love,” I said, sharing my thoughts. “But even if she did decide to write something dangerous, which led to her attack, the killer would’ve searched her place and taken any notes she had or evidence tied to them, right?”
Enzo nodded in agreement. “Play the footage,” he suggested, facing the screen again.
The camera angles bounced around, never losing sight of Bianca as she walked. It was as if Constantine had designed a program to recognize her face and follow her every step.
