Page 166 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

She didn’t have time to explain.

“He was here working in the office,” Haven said. “But he got called out a while ago.”

“Where is he now?”

Haven glanced away. “Why?”

Siena could tell just by the look in Haven’s eyes that the woman didn’t want to give up any information about Andino. Maybe she had been told not to, or something.

It really didn’t matter in that moment.

“Let me guess, you’re not supposed to trust me either, right?”

“Well—”

“I don’t have time for this,” Siena hissed, heading back down the stairs. “John is in trouble.”

“John?”

Haven’s quiet question made Siena’s footsteps falter. She hesitated, and glanced over her shoulder.

“Yeah, John.”

“Andino is a couple of blocks away. I guess John’s father called. He took off.”

“John did?” Siena asked.

Haven nodded. “Yeah. Earlier.”

Oh, God, no.

Siena didn’t have time to go somewhere else yet again. She couldn’t chase people all over the city in hopes that she would finally find someone who would actually listen to her, believe what she said, and help.

Her brothers had said it. Tonight was the night.

They didn’t say John’s name, but what they had said had been more than enough to make Siena believe that’s who they meant.

Which meant he was probably heading to her father’s place now.

Siena turned back on Haven. “Please, tell them John is at my father’s home.”

Haven swallowed hard. “Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, Andino will never forgive you when they finally get John’s body back from my family.”

The blonde stilled in place like a statue with a gaze full of ice.

Siena was already heading back down the stairs. “I can’t chase them. I have to help John instead.”

Behind her, Haven called out, “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

Siena laughed.

The only thing she regretted at the moment was being born a Calabrese.

Siena didn’t recognize the black Mercedes SUV that had been left running on the side of the road in front of her parents’ brownstone. The taxi driver pulled away from the curb, still pissed that this time, she had all but thrown a handful of credit cards at the back of his head.

Her mother’s car was not parked in the driveway beside Matteo’s tan-colored Suburban. She wasn’t surprised about that. Her father often sent her mother away for the night when he planned to do business inside the brownstone.