Chapter 36
36
SAMANTHA
M ary is right.
Not about Braiden. She doesn’t understand a thing about my twisted marriage, about the relationship I thought would be my life.
But she knew I needed food, even if it was three hours after normal people eat their dinners. And after I eat, she knows I need a reason to stay out of my lonely bedroom, so she organizes a Scrabble tournament among all four of us housemates. She says it’s a Friday night in the middle of summer. We can all sleep in tomorrow. So we click wooden tiles onto the board until midnight, toasting Mary with Diet Coke when she finally wins.
I’m actually smiling as I get into bed after taking my turn in the shared bathroom. I turn on a small fan, fighting the leftover heat of the July day. As usual, I toss and I turn, trying to punch my pillow into a more comfortable shape.
I could swear I never close my eyes, but when my phone rings, I don’t remember where I am. Shaken from the absolute black of dreamless sleep, it takes me a moment to sit up in bed. I’m clumsy with confusion, and I almost drop my phone.
But I see the name on the screen: EC.
Elisabetta Canna.
A woman who will never use a phone again.
Abruptly, brutally awake, I tap the screen. “What?” I ask, because I know who’s on the other end, and he knows me.
“Giovanna,” Russo says. “My uccellino says the FBI meet Monday morning.”
His little bird. He must keep a spy in the heart of the United States Department of Justice. “Meet about what?”
“Me. My business. My taxes.”
“You need a criminal lawyer,” I say, remembering to keep my voice steady, even as my pulse launches into triple time. Every synapse in my body says I’ve won. He’s finally reaching out to me. I’m about to get the proof I long for.
“I need to shelter assets. And that means my tax documents must reflect certain…versions of reality. Before I meet with the FBI.”
“Fine,” I say, pushing back my sheets. “I can be at the freeport in twenty minutes.”
“No,” he says. “I will not go to Dover. You will come here, to Philadelphia.”
Immediately, I try to think of someone I can call, someone who can keep me safe in Russo’s lair. Trap. Liam. Braiden.
Before I can even begin to wrestle with the emotions of reaching out to any of them, with needing a man to keep me safe, Russo says, “Come alone, cara. Within two hours. Or I will leave the freeport forever.”