Page 16 of His Fatal Love

“I see. Well, I’m always happy to be of help.”

“Another?” She holds up a whiskey bottle this time, and I shrug.

* * *

Several drinks later, I decide it might be time to leave. I’m annoyed at the world. I was half hoping Romeo might come back in after his shift was done. But last call goes up, and it’s time I got out of here. I’ll have to regroup, contact Vincenzo again, be abject and apologetic and somehow drag the damn fool to dinner with Sandro.

Outside, I head toward a shortcut that I know will lead me back out to the more civilized parts of the city, the kind of places I might find a cab, or at least the kind of places an Uber driver might actually agree to venture into. But the shadows seem to deepen as I go, until I find myself walking through almost tactile silence. Only the soft echo of my own feet accompany me…

But IknowI’m being watched again.

I hear a faint clatter nearby—close enough that I can still navigate my way there, although no further sounds follow. Then I think I see a flicker of movement, and I move toward it. If I’ve picked up an inconvenient Bernardi shadow again, it might be a good time to sever them from my person, even though I’m a little tipsy. That blue-haired bartender was very generous tonight.

I pass by battered dumpsters and black-yawning alleyways. When I draw in a deep breath, I smell cigarettes, the faint aroma of rotting food, and urine.

And something else.

A hint of something sharp and metallic in the back of the throat, like an old piece of iron left to rust.

Blood.

I follow my nose instinctively, curiously, just like I’ve done my whole life, even though it only ever gets me into trouble.

It does now, too.

Vincenzo Esposito is sprawled against a brick wall, one leg twisted under him. His skin glistens a sickly yellow in the dim light, and both his eyes are blackened, gaping holes. For a moment I think he’s been shot, but after a quick glance around, I locate two straggly little lumps, set carefully on the lid of the nearby dumpster.

His eyes.

Looking at me.

I crouch down to take a closer look at the body. The throat has been cut and there’s blood everywhere behind him, splashed right up the wall as though someone was using Vincenzo as a hose, and wanted to see just how high his spray might reach.

I have to be careful not to get any on me.

Quick, accurate work, but not clean. A professional, though, or at least someone very used to killing—or someone very lucky. But it would take more than luck to take down the Esposito Enforcer. Vincenzo was not the cleverest man I’ve ever met, but he was tough.

Jack has the skills for this, but it’s not his style. Notclean.

I also have the skills. And I’m not afraid of making a mess.

And just a few hours ago I fought with Vincenzo in full view of a lot of people. I can’t silence all of them, not without attracting attention. Not without Sandro’s permission, either, I suppose.

That’s a whole other problem I have to look forward to now: telling Don Castellani that the Esposito he wanted to buddy up to is dead.

I rise and back away from the thing that used to be Vincenzo, casting another glance around as I do. But if there’s someone watching me, they choose to stay silent. Silent and distant.

On careful, quiet feet, I leave the alleyway.

Sandro is going to beverycross about this.

CHAPTER6

LEO

I’m almostrelieved midweek when Father sends me out to do myrealjob, and help a few crews understand how to toe the line. Julian Castellani has been crowding my mind lately, and I need to think about something else.

Anything else.

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