Chapter 20
For two glorious hours, we lounged in the park—eating, talking, enjoying the feel of the spring sun on our faces. Kiera shared stories of her distinctly middle-class family and growing up in suburban Indiana. She talked about the challenges and rewards of medical school and the dreams she’d had before her sister’s murder.
But mostly, she just relaxed on the picnic blanket beside me, sipping wine and occasionally popping cherry tomatoes and olives into her mouth. Every now and again, she would roll over and rest her head on my shoulder, moving in close enough for me to feel her chest softly rise and fall with every breath.
They were sweet, simple, small moments—the kind that had been missing from my life. Simply hearing her laugh made me feel closer to heaven than I’d ever been.
I didn’t want it to end.
But after a couple of hours, the wine was gone and a chill had crept into the breeze blowing across the park. So Kiera packed up the scraps and folded the blanket, and we headed back to my building.
“We should do that again soon,” she said with a contented smile as we traveled up the elevator. Her big, rich, forest-floor brown eyes looked up at me with nothing but trust.
Damn, she was beautiful. Near perfect. And so damn innocent.
Not naive…but innocent.
She alone saw the good in me. Not just saw it but drew it out. Kiera didn’t just make me want to be a better person; her mere presence actually made me one.
Only someone truly good herself was capable of something like that.
I wasn’t deluding myself. I didn’t miraculously become some kind of saint around her. My life had been steeped in far too much blood and violence for that to ever be a possibility.
But she did make me better.
And that was more than I ever dared to hope for.
She was still smiling as the elevator doors opened on my floor. Stepping out, she casually wrapped her arm around my waist. I draped mine over her shoulder, feeling downright domestic as we walked down the hallway together.
Distracted by thoughts of all the deliciously dirty things I planned to do to her once we got back inside, I didn’t notice that someone was in my apartment until after I’d already closed the door.
It was a rookie mistake—one that should have been far beneath me.
“Been out enjoying yourself, boy?”
I froze at the sound of the familiar voice, one that had never been heard before in my home.
“Sal.” Before turning around to face him, I shepherded Kiera protectively behind me. I found him sitting in the chair closest to the window, his arms stretched wide along the back, making it clear he’d had no trouble making himself at home. “What are you doing here?”
On the surface, his wide grin might be mistaken for friendly, but there was no mistaking the daggers shooting from his murky blue stare. “I would have waited outside, but I figured you wouldn’t mind if I made myself at home.”
“How did you get in?” I asked as casually as I could manage. “I don’t remember giving you a key.”
“I borrowed one from the twins,” he answered. “It was either that or bust down the door since you’ve never trusted me enough to invite me into your home.”
“Don’t take it personally,” I answered, making a mental note to change the locks as soon as he left. “I don’t invite anyone.”
“Well, that’s clearly not true.” His gaze shifted a fraction of an inch, settling on Kiera. Anger welled up inside me as I felt her tense at his attention. “Besides, I know for a fact that Gabriel and Matteo were here earlier this week.”
So, he was keeping tabs on the twins now? That was interesting…and more than a little unsettling.
Almost as unsettling as the intense way he was studying Kiera’s face.
“They don’t need an invitation,” I said forcefully, trying to pull his attention away from her and back to me. “They’re family.”
It worked. Sal cocked his head to the side, more open malice creeping into his joyless smile. “And I’m not?”
“I don’t know. Are you?” I asked, lobbing that ball right back into his court.
After all, he was the one who had always denied our connection. The one whose coldness made it clear he thought of me as an interloper with no place in the D’Angelo family.
“No. I’m not your uncle. I never have been.” His smile became even more brittle as he finally said the words that had been unspoken since the day his brother had brought me home. “The only thing I am to you is your boss.”
If he was trying to injure my pride, he was going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that.
“What are you really doing here, Sal?”
“You want to get straight to it? Fine,” Sal said with a shrug. “I want to know what made you think it was a good idea to go to the strip club Tuesday night and leave behind a bloody crime scene?”
“What is he talking about, Dorian?” Kiera’s voice might have been nothing more than a shaky whisper behind me, but it somehow still managed to fill every inch of strained silence in the room. “What strip club? What crime scene?”
“She doesn’t know?” Sal’s sick grin widened. A stomach-twisting kind of pleasure entered his eyes. “And here I figured this piece of ass was the whole reason you paid Carlo Costa a visit that night. She is the one he was after, right?”
My whole body tightened hearing Sal describe Kiera in such vulgar terms. Without realizing it, my hands curled into fists at my side.
“Kiera, go to the bedroom and close the door,” I told her without taking my eyes off Sal for a second. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
But she didn’t move. Her hands stayed curled around my side, her fingers digging into my sides for support. I could practically feel the fear and confusion vibrating through her.
I wanted to turn and assure her everything would be fine. That Sal wasn’t a threat…at least not in the traditional sense, but before I could get a word out, Sal laughed.
“You surprise me, Dorian. Let the girl stay. I’ve never known you to be ashamed of your work before.”
“I’m not the one with reason to be ashamed,” I said, anger dripping from every word.
Even though it wasn’t a good idea to let my genuine emotions slip out, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction when the smug expression on Sal’s face faltered for a second.
Of course, I should have known that what would replace it was pure, unfiltered rage.
“Is that what you think, boy?” His shout echoed off the walls, his face turning red. Behind me, Kiera jumped. Her grip on me tightened even more. “You for made an unsanctioned hit on the cousin of a rival boss. Do you really think I’m here to thank you for bringing us to the edge of war with the Costas?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There won’t be a war,” I said with absolute confidence. “The Costas don’t know it was a hit, and they never will. I was careful to make Carlo’s death look like an accident…just like always.”
Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for Sal. His fingers bit into the leather ends of the chair’s armrest in his anger. “Careful? The man drowned in a pool of his own blood.”
“No, he died when his heart muscles seized so hard they froze,” I said to remind Sal he wasn’t dealing with some common street thug. “All the blood and froth were just side effects of the strychnine I injected him with.”
Behind me, Kiera’s hands slipped away from my waist.
“I don’t give a shit how the idiot died,” Sal roared. “The point is if I figured out you were the one behind his murder, then so will the Costas.”
That was unlikely…almost as unlikely as Sal coming to that conclusion on his own. Or caring about the death of a minor player in a rival family in the first place.
Narrowing my eyes, I cocked my head to the side as I studied him with new eyes. Sal wasn’t what anyone would describe as a naturally curious person.
“How did you hear about Carlo’s death?” I asked. “And what made you assume I had anything to do with it?”
Sal’s lips flattened into a thin line. Clearly, that wasn’t a question he wanted to answer. “I have my ways,” was all he said.
Interesting.
Only Gabriel and Matteo were aware of both the details of Kiera’s connection to Carlo Costa and my visit to La Sera, and I knew the twins would sooner die than sell me out.
The only way Sal could have discovered that information was by bugging their phones. It would also explain how he’d been able to track their movements earlier in the week.
But now wasn’t the time to confront him about that, so I quickly changed the subject.
“I assume you’re here to give me a slap on the wrist for acting on my own?”
“Slap your wrist?” Sal fumed. “You’re lucky I didn’t plug you in the head the second you walked through the door, you ungrateful bastard.”
“Bullshit.” Crossing my arms, I glared down at him. “You’re too much of a coward to kill with your own hands. Besides, I’m far too important to the family. Kill me, and who would you get to do your dirty work?”
“Don’t get a big head, boy,” Sal shot back with a sneer. “There are hundreds of street soldiers in this city willing to pull the trigger to prove their loyalty to me.”
“Then send one of them the next time you need someone like Bonetti quietly taken out,” I said, moving over to the bar. I had the feeling I would need something strong to endure the rest of this conversation. “Or that Morelli capo that thought he could get away with siphoning off some of our SoHo gambling territory. Or that corrupt police captain who had the idea to squeeze you for more bribe money. Or?—“
“Enough,” Sal stopped me with a growl before cursing under his breath. “You’ve made your point. You’re no common thug. You’re a damn useful assassin.”
“Useful?” I repeated, grabbing a bottle of twenty-year-old scotch and pouring myself a few fingers. “I think what you meant was ‘the best.’”
“Don’t push it,” Sal said with a snarl. “You may be good, but the only thing I care about right now is loyalty. The last thing I need is some idiot who’d choose a cheap whore over family. So tell me—if it came down to this chick or the family, which would you choose?”
My blood turned to ice. My fingers itched to wrap around Sal’s throat and squeeze the life out of him—but instead, I gripped the glass in my hand so tight I thought it might shatter.
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Oh, really?” Sal shot back with a self-satisfied smile. “You choose her over family? I wonder if you’d feel the same way about her if that sweet little face of hers wasn’t so pretty anymore. I’m sure Benny the Knife wouldn’t mind giving her one of his signature facelifts.”
“One more word, and you’ll be the one drowning in your own blood,” I said through gritted teeth.
Sal shot up from the chair. Behind all the pretend outrage and bluster, I could make out the hint of real fear shining in his eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“Consider it fair warning.” But after picking up my glass and downing the contents in one go, I doubled down. “But if you want a threat, I’ll give you one. If you even think about intimidating me or the people I care about ever again, I will give you a private lesson in why every criminal in this city calls me the Angel of Death.”
I slammed the tumbler down on the counter hard enough to send a crack up the side of the cut crystal. Sal jumped, surprised by the sharp sound echoing off the walls.
But he wasn’t the only one who was startled.
In the same instant, I heard a short, muffled cry off to the side of the room.
I broke my death stare away from Sal just long enough to find Kiera standing in the far corner, back pressed against the wall, face pale, hands covering her gaping mouth.
Shit.
Somewhere along the line, I’d forgotten she was there, that she hadn’t gone to the bedroom like I’d told her.
Instead, she’d just retreated into the background, silently watching, listening to every word.
Now, she looked terrified by the hideous monster standing before her. Her eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them, as if she couldn’t believe they could take in something so evil.
I let go of the broken glass and felt a trickle of blood drip down my palm. Forgetting Sal for a moment, I reached out to her.
“Kiera,” I said.
But she didn’t answer. After another excruciatingly long second of staring at me in horror, she turned and ran from the room.
Behind me, Sal laughed.
“Looks like I was worried over nothing,” he said smugly. “You may have lost your head over the girl, but clearly, she hasn’t lost hers over you.”