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“There’s a back dealing between the Snake and a few international black market moguls coming up. An auction of some sort.”
“What’s being put up for auction?” David leaned forward, clearly forgetting his earlier reservations.
“Guns? Drugs? How the fuck should I know?” Dante snapped. “All I know is that the Snake is supposed to be there.”
My ears snagged on that last part. “Supposed to be…but we need to confirm that. It can’t be like last time where we showed up thinking the Snake would be somewhere only to be attacked.”
“You’re right,” Dante said, nodding. He barely looked at me.
“How are we supposed to do that?” Killian asked.
Dante’s fingers tapped against the table, a faraway look on his face. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he looked up, looking resigned. “I might know someone who can verify this.”
“The Arco brothers aren’t going to know,” Killian pointed out. “They don’t deal with black market dealings. Just dens of sin.”
“It’s not the Arco brothers,” Dante growled. “And you don’t know her. I knew her when I was…a long time ago.”
I frowned at the word ‘her.’ I wasn’t normally the type to get jealous, but I really didn’t like the way he said that. Dante was avoiding my gaze, keeping his eyes firmly on the table. That only added to my growing reservations to contact whoever the hell this her was. He was acting sketchy as fuck, and I wanted to know why.
“We shouldn’t be bringing anyone else into this,” I said shortly. “We don’t know who we can trust. And besides, going back into the city could lead the Snake right to us. Isn’t that why you freaked out when I left to meet Gemma?”
“We can trust my contact,” Dante replied, still not looking at me. “And that was different. You weren’t out getting information we need to take out our enemy.”
I huffed, crossing my arms. I wanted to argue, but I was starting to get too pissed off to find the words. Killian and David exchanged wary looks. I could tell they agreed with me, but they weren’t about to get in the middle of this. Not when I was staring daggers at Dante, and he was purposely ignoring it. If looks could kill, he’d be ten feet under right about now.
“How long will it take you to contact…them?” David asked, purposely avoiding a certain pronoun.
“Maybe an hour. Depends on where she is.” Dante clearly had no such reserves. It just pissed me off more.
I didn’t even flinch as Killian’s hands slapped the table. He started to rise from his chair. “Great. I’m going to take a—”
“You’re going to help David get rid of the body.” Dante’s words made us all freeze.
“You killed him?” David asked quietly.
Dante’s eyes landed on him, flashing dangerously. “He killed my father. He deserved it.”
David didn’t argue. Killian sighed, following the agent out of the kitchen. I waited for their footsteps to recede before turning to Dante.
“Who is she?”
Dante sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not now, Sienna. I knew this woman before I even met you.”
“I don’t give a shit. Who is she?” I demanded.
“Why do you need to know?”
Was he serious? “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because everyone around us is betraying us left and right, and you want to bring someone we don’t know into it?”
“Now’s not the time for jealousy.” He started to get up.
I saw red. Twisting around, I snatched the butcher’s knife from its place on the counter, whipping it towards his retreating form. It dug into the wooden frame of the doorway, just inches away from his head, the handle vibrating from the impact. Dante glanced at it with a bored expression before yanking it out of the wood. He tossed it back onto the table.
“Your aim could use some work.”
I bristled as he disappeared out the front door. How fucking dare he? Shaking, I moved to follow him before thinking better of it. If he wanted to go meet some secret woman, then that was his own choice. But that didn’t mean he’d pay for it later.
My chair screeched as I stood from the table, stalking toward the stairs. Killian’s back appeared at the top of the basement steps, and I could just make out garbage bags in his hands. Not wanting to watch them take care of the body, I headed upstairs, stomach churning. Slamming our bedroom door gave me enough satisfaction to where I wouldn’t have to destroy the rest of the furniture in the room.
