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I brush my hair back with my fingers. “How do you know?”
“Antonio brought us his head.”
“Funny,” I grumble.
“I’m not joking, Gigi.”
“Oh.”
The man I love beheaded a man.
That wasn’t on this year’s bingo card.
“Still want to remain married to him?”
I kick my foot out and scowl. “Should I go wake up Neomi and ask if she still wants to be married toyou, a murderer who is gifted people’s limbs? Because I’m sure you and Dad were over the moon seeing Sonny’s raggedy old head.”
He chuckles. “Jesus. Go to bed.”
I start to turn away but stop mid-turn to whisper his name.
“Yeah?”
“Will you tell me everything is going to be okay?”
“Everything is going to be okay, Gigi.”
“Are you lying?”
“Go. To. Bed.”
He leaves before I can ask him any more questions.
Sonny is dead.
We’re safe … for the most part.
Well, I am.
My father still wants to kill Antonio.
I’m surprised he didn’t do it tonight.
Instead of returning to bed, I slide against my father’s office door until I’m flat on my ass and rest my back against it. Adjusting myself a few times, I struggle to get comfortable.
My dad said we’ll talk in the morning.
Damn straight we will.
First freaking thing.
“Ugh,” I groan before rising and stomping to the living room to snatch a pillow and blanket. Then I return to my spot in front of his door.
I need to know what happened.
But more importantly, I need to see Antonio.
Talk to him.
