Chapter 6
1177words
She takes a deep, shaky breath. 'My therapist, that's all."
Triple fuck.
'But she won't tell anyone, not even the cops. She won't say a word. Client-therapist confidentiality, right?"
I sigh. 'Not if you wind up dead."
Her eyes widen, as if she's just getting that her therapist could be compelled to break confidentiality.
If I wasn't so pissed, I would laugh. Leo had done far too good of a job keeping his wife sheltered from our life. She doesn't seem to understand how our world works.
'When you and Victoria turn up dead, it'll have her thinking about going to the cops and spilling everything you told her."
She's silent for a moment, the wheels turning behind her eyes. Then she licks her lips and shakes her head. 'Then we can't turn up dead. I already have a plan. I can—"
'No. This is the plan, Mariana. There are two bodies in the trunk that will be trapped in this room and burned beyond identification in a fire that's going to start in less than half an hour," I explain patiently, not something to which I am accustomed. 'So, you see, your client-therapist confidentiality goes out the window tonight."
Mariana looks up at me, silent, her face etched with grief and guilt. I have a feeling she's told this goddamned therapist a lot.
'Give me her information," I demand.
Her eyes widen. 'Why? What are you going to do, Zade?"
'I'll take care of it." That's all she needs to know.
She shakes her head and takes a step back. 'No, you can't do that. She won't talk. I'm sure she won't."
Christ. Now the woman decides to grow a backbone?
'You do realize who your husband was and the things he did to keep you in the lap of luxury, right?"
She's silent because, really, there's no argument to that.
'Give me your therapist's information and finish packing. We clear out in ten minutes," I tell her, then make to leave the room, fucking done with this conversation.
Mariana grabs my arm, pleading 'Promise me you won't hurt her."
I give her a long, reproachful look, and without me speaking, Mariana understands. She heaves a sigh of grief and resignation, then starts to cry again.
Mariana realizes that her husband's betrayal has backfired. Instead of subjecting her to the traitor's treatment she rightly deserves—leaving her fate to whatever Romario plans for her—I'm going out of my way to protect her. Because of her lapse in judgment, an innocent woman will now have to die, a harsh lesson in why one must never disclose the secrets of our world.
'I'm so sorry, Zade. I tried to talk Leo out of what he was doing, but it was as if he had a fever in his head or something," she explains, her voice a mix of despair and regret.
He wanted a way out, and he got it, one way or another. I nod curtly in response. 'Finish packing up, Mariana. You have seven minutes." As I turn and leave, her resigned sigh echoes behind me, trailing me all the way back to the SUV.
I shake it off, mentally counting off the last couple of steps left to make things right again. First get Leo's wife and child out of here. Once Mariana's ass is on a plane out of the country, mine has a date with a feelings guru.
Fucking wonderful.
'The therapist likely knows too much. She needs to go," I say to my father as we contemplate which of our safe houses Mariana and Victoria should be taken before arranging a permanent life for them.
'Send Fredo Batti instead," my father's tone is uncharacteristically sharp. Almost like a command, like back in the days when he was Don.
'No, Padre. It will go down as one of the most fucked up hits I've ever put out. I should do it myself."
My father takes a deep breath, shakes his head, and gestures with fingers pinched together for emphasis. 'No, Don Vitalo, this is something you shouldn't do yourself. That's the reason you have soulless men like Batti. They see and do the things you don't have to, so that you can do your job effectively."
My father sometimes addresses me as Don Vitalo. I'm not stupid enough to take it as a compliment. It's his way of never letting me forget who I am—who he's forced me to be by retiring early. He's schooling me from behind, the sneaky fox.
Not that I'm complaining. Having the most influential man in the Outfit defer to me has its perks among my men and with the other families, especially in times like this, rife with rebellions and factions itching to make the Outfit like the setup they've got in New York.
'Father, it's a woman. A civilian. I make it a point never to send men to do something I have not done before." I can't consign anyone to a hell I haven't lived in.
Father scoffs, but I see the grudging respect in his eyes. 'Honor destroys us all in the end." He tips his glass of wine to me. It's a saying I've heard all my life. But he's sixty now, which is a ripe old age for a man like him, so honor can't be all that bad.
I reply with a shrug, 'Something ought to kill a man."
He only smiles, shakes his head and mutters cryptically. 'Yes, but self-awareness is a rare virtue, figlio mio. In any case, be sure to make it quick and clean."
It's my turn to scoff. As if he needs to tell me how to kill a man. Although I've never killed a woman before, so there's that.
'I'll get Pietro on logistics, otherwise, nobody will know of this," My father says, all business again.
'Grazie, Padre."
He stands to leave but not without a respectful dip of his head.
After I'm alone, I pick up the photograph of Dr. Sapphire Kellan. It's a headshot taken from a long-range camera this morning through an open window of her house. She's sitting in front of an easel, but she appears to be lost in thought rather than actively painting.
I take in more of her features: dark hair slicked back into a bun, high cheekbones, and an interesting mouth with a perfectly bow-shaped top lip. She's gnawing on her bottom lip, and I find myself almost reaching out to gently free it from between her teeth, curious to see what it looks like relaxed. Beyond her prim exterior, there's something earthy and raw about her. My cock stirs, and I grind my molars against the lust and regret surging inside me.
That she's hot should not make any difference, you fucking horny bastard.
I slide the photo into my jacket coat and reach for my phone. I need to get laid. Bury myself in enough pussy to forget Sapphire Kellan's mouth, and what I'm about to do to her.
