“Elio is still at Gigi’s house.”
“Maybe they were enjoying a quiet evening at home like us.” Dominic digs his fork into the toast.
“Elio might be a murderer, you’re not.” I shovel more toast into my mouth. “This is so good.”
“Like I said before, he checked out clean, Cipi. My team ran his name through multiple databases, and so did I. He has no connections to any rival families, no flags on his finances, no problems with the law, nothing, not even a damn parking ticket.”
“Like he doesn’t even exist,” I mumble between mouthfuls. “Gigi is just too trusting. People like her get devoured in this world. They’ve only been on a few dates, and already they’re wrestling naked in bed.”
He studies me for a moment. “Maybe she still believes people are good. Not everyone walks around anticipating betrayal.”
I take another bite of French toast.
“You know she’s still young, Cipi. There’s about ten years between the two of you.”
“She reminds me of myself,” I add quietly.
Dominic tilts his head, “You?”
“Yes. Before, when I was young and thought I could love without consequences.”
He leans forward and locks eyes with me. “You’re still young and you still can love.” He squeezes my hand. “After breakfast, I’m going to head over to Rachel’s apartment and have a little chat.”
“I’m coming too.”
“I knew you would say that. My team found her address. She lives in a very fancy high rise on the west side of town. Very fancy. There is no way she can afford it on a secretary salary.”
We finish eating, then shower and change.
Dominic has more clothes in his overnight bag and comes out in black slacks, navy shirt, and a charcoal coat.
I decide on black pants, a burgundy sweater, and my beige fur coat.
We head into the garage to the Maserati. Dominic opens the door for me and I slide in.
I open the garage door and as Dominic backs his sedan out, I glance at Gigi’s house through the side mirror. I wonder if they are making breakfast, laughing and joking. To be young and carefree. I envy her for a second.
“I just think she deserves better,” I mumble.
Dominic drives through the gates of the compound. “So do you. Don’t ever sell yourself short, Cipriani Capuano. You’re striking fear into the hearts of mob men and looking good while doing it.”
Chapter twenty-six
“Rachel Evans lives here?” I stare at the serpentine residential tower.
“Yes. Very polished and high-class living arrangements for someone with a secretary’s paycheck.” Dominic pulls into one of the parking spaces at South Loop Penthouses.
The tower looks like it belongs in a magazine spread. The floor-to-ceiling windows gleam under the overcast sky. Shining like a mirror, the building reflects the surrounding scenery and the Chicago River.
Dominic puts the car in park, then gets out to open my door. “She lives in a three-bedroom two-bath.”
I gasp. “That must cost a fortune.”
“Yes, it does, baby, and we know she’s not the one paying the bills.” Dominic takes my arm as we walk up the steps and into the lobby.
The place is all marble with polished black floors and gold accents. A concierge desk is to the left where a stiff-jawed attendant in a tailored suit is too busy on his phone to pay attention to us. Behind him are mailboxes and a wall of greenerythat climbs to the ceiling where crystal chandeliers hang. Security cameras hang in every corner.
“Don’t you need a key card or some kind of electronic device to get upstairs?” I hiss as Dominic steers me to the elevator.
