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Jim’s official picture appears on screen with his date of birth and an approximate date of death.
“This is Brenda Davis, from News 4, reporting live from St. Clement’s church,” says the reporter.
My jaw drops.
Jim is dead.
And his funeral is happening right now.
FIFTY-SIX
ROMAN
I slip out of the suite to find Cesare and Benito waiting in the hallway. Benito wears an elegant suit, while Cesare wears bulletproof armor with a couple of guns strapped to his belt. Tony, Gil, and a few others stand behind them, their expressions somber.
“What’s happened?” I ask.
Cesare pushes forward. “Those Moirai bastards finally agreed to a time and place.”
My gaze snaps to meet Benito’s. “What do they want?”
“The hostages in exchange for calling off all three hits,” Cesare answers with a touch of pride.
I turn my attention to my baby brother, wondering why the hell Benito allowed him to negotiate with the Moirai. Cesare squares his shoulders as though expecting a reprimand, but I don’t have the heart. If he’s finally stepping up, then who am I to discourage him?
I clap him on the shoulder. “Great job.”
Cesare grins. “Drop off point is across town, and we need to get there within the hour. You coming?”
I hesitate. After the shit Cesare and I pulled last time with the Moirai group, we could be walking into an ambush. I can’t leave Emberly waiting for me all day in a hotel room, and there isn’t enough time for me to take her back to Alderney Hill.
My gaze flicks to Tony and Gil. “Hang back, you two, and take Miss Kay back home.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” Gil pushes his way forward and hands me a duffle bag. “Brought you something to wear.”
“Thanks.” I place my hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
Cesare heads toward the elevator, and I’m about to step back into the room when Benito grabs my arm.
“Can I talk to you in private?” he asks, his voice low.
I walk to the other end of the hallway, my brow furrowed. “What is it?”
“Did you get married last night?” Benito whispers.
My gaze darts over my shoulder, where Cesare and his entourage stand by the elevator, leaving Tony and Gil by the door, deep in conversation.
“Why do you ask?” I whisper back.
“Reverend Johnson asked me to witness your marriage certificate, saying you’ve written off all his debts.”
“That’s right.”
Benito’s jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow into slits. “And that’s why you took my best suite without clearing it with me first?”
My eyes widen, and I study my brother’s disgruntled features. I wouldn’t have thought interfering with casino business would piss him off more than the fact that I married Capello’s daughter, but this is unexpected.
“You’re griping about a hotel room?” I ask with an incredulous laugh.
