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“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Michael Bennett,” Monty growled. He leaned over the table and glared at me. “I know what you did, Alessio.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I snarled. “I don’t care who knows. Just get me the fuck out of here.”
Chapter Eight
Beth
When I left Douglas and Gabrielle’s, I couldn’t sleep. I wandered the streets near the condo, wondering what I’d have to do to get back into Douglas’s good graces. Not that I cared what he thought of me, but there was no way I’d be able to support myself given what few tools I had. If I wanted to survive in New York, I’d have to find Michael’s killer and bring him to justice…and fast.
I didn’t know where to start, so I went to the library and signed up for a slot at the computers. The library was practically empty as it was the middle of the night – the only people sitting at tables were obviously college kids, with giant cups of espresso and bags of cheese crackers. I envied them – they were so young, they had no idea what life could really throw when it wanted to. Back in college, I’d been naïve and happy-go-lucky. It was so hard to believe how much had changed in four years.
Thinking of Michael was incredibly painful. For a few moments, I’d almost forget and it would be easier to breathe. Then his lean face would slide into my mind and I would choke, gasping for air. I couldn’t stop wondering how much pain he’d been in when he died – did he know what was coming? Was he frightened?
Had he thought of me in his final moments?
I shuddered. Finally, a computer was freed and I slid into the seat still warmed by the other person’s ass. I pulled up a search engine and stared for a few minutes, before typing in the name Amoruso. I glanced around me, suddenly frightened that a thug was going to come out of the darkness and shoot me like they’d shot Michael. Finally, I pressed ‘enter’ and closed my eyes as I waited for the results to load.
When the articles loaded, I was shocked. The page was filled with acrimonious accusations against the Amoruso family. I couldn’t believe it – until just a few hours ago, I’d thought of the family as a successful restaurateur dynasty. But I was starting to learn that there was much more.
One of the articles caught my eye. The headline read: “Gianni Amoruso killed in auto accident – truly an accident?”
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself as I waited for the page to load. Just as the text began to narrow and focus in front of me, someone grabbed the back of my neck. I tried to cry out but a hand slipped over my face and tightened over my mouth.
“Mmnf!” I cried. “Mnf!”
“Shut up,” a male voice hissed in one ear. “You want to wake the fucking dead, lady?”
My eyes were wide in fear and I tried to turn around in the chair but the hands were gripping me powerfully.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” the voice hissed in my ear. “You close the browser. You get your shit, and you leave the library. And you forget this
ever happened.”
My heart turned to ice in my chest and I shivered. I tried to cry out but the hand pinched my lips together in a painful way and I felt my eyes well with tears. What was happening? Why was I being targeted like this?
And how had they known?
“You forget everything you heard downtown today,” the voice growled. “I’m giving you one chance to act like this never happened, you understand girlie?”
Slowly, I nodded my head.
“Now, close the page.”
With a shaking hand, I clicked out of the browser and deleted the history.
“Good,” the voice whispered in my ear. “You better hope you never see me again.”
But I can’t see you now, I wanted to protest. Who the hell are you?
After a few seconds, the death grip on my neck and mouth were released and I went hurling through the quiet air of the library, gasping and choking.
I tried to turn around and see who had attacked me, but the library was dark and quiet. The college kids were still sitting and studying, and I had the sinking feeling that none of them had noticed what had just happened. Nervously, I grabbed my bags and walked out of the library on shaky legs.
I knew what I had to do. I had to go downtown – to the police station – and report what had just happened. Obviously, someone in the Amoruso family was following me…and obviously, they wanted to keep what had happened to Michael a secret.
Well, this made me more determined than ever to bring my fiancé’s killer to justice.
