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He puts the glass on the table and spreads his palms. “We had no idea. Why did you keep it from us?”
“My private life is hardly your business, Uncle.”
“It’s not that. It’s that we didn’t know,” he stresses again. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
I sip my wine, enjoying his discomfort. “Such as thinking that Toma and Gianni aren’t doing their jobs?”
“She must’ve slipped into the house unnoticed.”
I smile wider, but internally I’m bristling because my cousins failed me. They could’ve fucking failed me in keeping my wife safe.
“She walked right through the front door with my wife,” I say.
He pulls his shoulders up to his ears. “It could’ve happened while Toma was taking a piss.”
“That sounds like a very convenient coincidence.” I swirl the wine in my glass. Fuck. It’s a mannerism I must’ve inherited from my father. The action is an uncanny imitation of how he used to do it. “Perhaps a little too convenient.”
“It’s possible. You know it can happen. Toma wouldn’t be the first man who screwed up because nature called. That’s why I’m here, not only to swear on my wife’s grave that it was an unfortunate mistake but also to assure you that it will never happen again. From now on, Toma and Gianni will each take a man with them. There will be eyes on the house without fail.”
“That’s very generous of you,” I muse.
“It’s the least I can do.” He nods solemnly, mistakenly assuming the matter is closed. “Toma will come around tomorrow to apologize in person. He’s on duty tonight.” He reaches for the glass, eyes the wine, and then pulls back his hand. “By the way, he told me the oldest boy showed up there this afternoon, but you already know that.”
I stand. “Thank you for your reassurance.”
He follows suit hastily, pushing to his feet. “For how long must Toma and Gianni carry on with this duty?”
“Until I say so.”
A pained look flashes through his eyes. “Haven’t we done enough already?” He picks up his hat and his scarf. “How much longer do you want us to pay?”
He’s such a good martyr. The suffering old man standing in front of me is a far cry from the horny one I met in his house. It’s something else I haven’t realized before—what a good actor he is.
“Until I say so,” I repeat.
He bows his head. “Whatever you say, Angelo.”
After a humble pause, he leaves the room.
Just as well I have eyes on the men who are supposed to watch my wife. I don’t trust my uncles any longer. I don’t know what they’re up to, but I will find out. So far, the informant I planted in Uncle Nico’s household produced nothing useful. The file the investigator sent me on Emilia didn’t prove valuable either. She’s just a middle-class girl trying to find a wealthy, old husband who’ll leave her a fortune when he dies. One thing is certain, I’m not fucking around with Sabella’s safety. Tonight still, I’ll triple the men who watch the new house, and I’m not saying a word about it to my family.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Sabella
* * *
When Heidi calls with fresh provisions the following afternoon, she tells me the news about the boys in a hushed voice where we’re unpacking the groceries in the kitchen. Sophie is out of earshot, watching television. Relief rushes through me. I didn’t stop worrying and wondering where they were.
“Do you think she misses them?” Heidi asks, jerking her head toward the lounge.
I bite my lip as I consider the question. “It’s hard to say. She never talks about them unless I ask questions.”
Heidi’s smile is warm. “Maybe she doesn’t miss them so much because she’s happy here.”
“I hope so.”
