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Even though I know what dead looks like, I check his pulse.
Dead.
Whoever pulled the trigger sure helped me out.
I grab my phone and call Severino.
He answers on the third ring.
“It’s Benny,” I say. “You need to come to Tommaso’s now.”
“What’s going on?” Severino snaps. “Let me speak with my son.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“I’m on my way.” He ends the call, but from his tone, he knows.
Severino understands he’s about to see his son’s dead body.
And now, I have to tell my wife her brother is dead.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
NEOMI
“Wake up, baby.”
I slowly open one eye and then the other at the sound of Benny’s voice.
The lamp on the nightstand shines in the darkness, creating my only source of light. Benny sits on the edge of the bed next to me. The bed indents at his weight, and he stares down at me.
He’s still wearing the clothes he had on when we left earlier. I relax, cuddling into his touch, and he runs a chilly hand along my cheek.
But that relaxation dissipates when he fails to meet my eyes. His shoulders hunch forward, and a vein stands out in his neck.
Dread swallows my stomach.
I’ve accompanied my mother on too many visits to homes where she broke the news that one of their loved ones had passed. My father preferred us to tell them. It showed compassion for the people who’d put their lives on the line for our family.
I sit up and scoot back until my back is against the headboard, shoving bedhead hair from my face.
“Benny”—my voice cracks—“what is it?”
I’m met with silence.
I shove his shoulder. “Benny!”
His face is tense. “Your brother is dead.”
There’s a lack of compassion there.
Not purposely, but I understand it.
My stomach clenches so tight that I’m worried it’ll never loosen.
“You’re lying!” I scream, shoving his shoulder again but with more force this time.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he stares at me with a grave face. “He’s gone, baby. He was murdered.”
