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Another sob shudders her shoulders, and her chin drops. I lower into a crouch making sure my face is even with hers. My eyes scan her face, her body language, and I find—nothing.
I point to the man in the photo. “This is Antonio Buscetta, underboss for the Cosa Nostra. So, you see—I don’t believe you,malyshka.You were there that night.”
Her eyes snap to mine, holding them.
Hell.
Her eyes well with more tears and the room around me fades away. I have an irresistible urge to taste them. I stand, unable to be this close to her. “You were there that night, and now we have this photo of him leaving your mom’s house. How long have you been working for him?” I’m disgusted by the thought of Antonio getting his hands on her. My lip curls as I glare down at her.
“I’m telling you, this man wasjustintroduced to me as Tony, my mom’s boyfriend. And that night—” She pauses, and I find myself hanging onto every word. “That night, I was stopping to get gas on my way to my mom’s. It was late because I had an event in the city; that’s why I was there. But please, if he is the under-whatever, I need to warn my mom. Please, she may be in trouble. Please, let me call her.”
She is sobbing now, her acting impeccable. However, the way she’s keeping on about her mom and never once mentioning Antonio intrigues me.
I run my hand through my hair, hesitating. Am I so paranoid that I’m entertaining the thought of Antonio using Kate to get to me? Looking at her, my resolve wavers. If Antonio wasn’t using her that night, he certainly is now.
“But,” she says, pulling her tied hands up to wipe at her face, “he was there that night.”
I freeze.What?
“I—I went to the ER that night. The police officer took my statement, and then he encouraged me to go get my wrist looked at.” My eyes dart to her hands, bound together, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to her wrist. She must see it on my face because she adds, “You fell on it. I had it checked out, then headed down to my car. But when I got in the elevator, it was with him—Tony. I didn’t know him and all he did was call mecaraand ask what floor I wanted. At the time, I was confused that he didn’t get off the elevator. When I met him yesterday, it didn’t click it was him until he called my mom the same thing—”
I mull over her story, struggling to find the cracks in it. Could it all be a coincidence with Kate? “Carameansdearin Italian,” I mutter, and I see the blood drain from her face, she’s finally comprehending it all.
“My mom …” she sputters. “She doesn’t know. Shecan’tknow.”
I tuck the photo back in my pocket and take a moment to roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. Kate’s shiver turns into a violent shake, and I realize what it must look like. Offering her a smirk, I walk around her. Both my hands land on the back of the chair. To her credit, she keeps her gaze straight ahead. I lean my head down and I inhale deep, enjoying the heady scent of sweet coconut and an alluring musk that is all Kate. She shivers when my mouth finds her ear.
“I hope you’re telling the truth,malyshka.”
* * *
As soon asthe door shuts behind me, I let out a sigh and stand there staring at the ground.
“Well?” Nik’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“I don’t think she knew.” I beckon him to follow as I ascend the stairs. “She said she was introduced to him as Tony, and he’s her mom’s boyfriend.”
Nik gapes. “Boyfriend? I thought he was married.”
“Divorced, but I would assume he is dating the mom to get to Kate. She says he was at the hospital that night.”
Nik freezes, probably worried about how my men missed him. They were distracted by my condition and potential death of the pakhan—about what that might mean for the Bratva. But still, they should’ve seen him.
“We had footage pulled from the hospital, your room and wing were secure the whole time,” he defends.
“He was in the elevator when Kate got in. Didn’t say much but asked her what floor and called hercara.”I grind my teeth at the thought of Antonio in such proximity to Kate and our men.
Nearing the security room located in the main entrance part of the warehouse, I pull up the footage of Kate. She is still in the chair but gnawing at her restraints.
“Why would Antonio date her mother for access to Kate? They aren’t in the family. Unless he got word that we were asking around about her. But still, he himself—nyet—he would send one of his capos, wouldn’t he?” Nik is asking questions that have been on repeat in my mind since I left the room. But I think what I would do, in his position. He is in line for boss as soon as the old man dies—he is securing loyalty and favor by playing this game.
“He’s playing …” I begin to say. The sick twisted man who tortures women, traffics them, and allows his men to be strung out or high. He must be playing a game, and Kate happens to have been caught in it.
I glance back at the monitor. Kate has pulled her legs up on the chair and wrapped her arms around them, making a pillow for her head. She looks like a ball all bunched up; she can’t be comfortable in that position. I rub my chest—what the hell is this weight?
“Do you want the girl back in her room?” Nik looks over at me, arms crossed.
The sensation in my chest tugs at me.
