Why ruin the perfect image of a man I started to think I didn’t know?
Andrei bit back a curse. “I believe I already know the answer, but I’ll ask anyway—who’s in charge of the finances?”
I frowned. “He’s the accountant; I’m horrible with numbers.”
The entire room tensed as Andrei leaned back and lowered his head like he was about to make a human sacrifice and felt guilty about it. “Show her.”
My father shared a look with Romeo, who was still standing behind me, then slowly slid a folder toward me. With shaking hands, I grabbed the manila folder.
How could something so plain terrify a person so much?
I reached into the folder and pulled out a stack of papers—bank statements, to be exact.
Highlighted at the very top was the sum of all of our accounts.
My stomach rolled. “Th-this— it isn’t. It can’t be right.”
He wouldn’t.
There was no way.
We were well off for sure; he’d been paid extremely well, and I had a trust fund from my father… But this? This enormous amount?
“Twenty-five million dollars,” Andrei said it slowly like I had a learning disability or maybe because I was having trouble believing it myself.
Twenty-five million?
Oh Tristian.
My eyes filled with tears.
What have you done?
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you know, Eden,” Andrei said with a smirk, “how valuable information can be?”
A chill ran down my spine as I tried to defend him in vain, maybe it was one last attempt to salvage his image. “He would never—”
Andrei pounded his fists against the table, causing me to jump a foot.
As he spewed, “HE DID!”CHAPTER TWELVE“There are no villains or heroes. There’s just what I want and how I’ll get it.” —X-Men
Eden
“I don’t know what he told or who he told it to; we have no leads, only evidence and a shit confession from Tristian himself when he got in too deep,” Andrei confided.
My head jerked up. “He confessed?”
Andrei sighed. “In a way.” He schooled his features again. “We’re still looking. But because both families, the Petrovs and the Sinacores, are aware of his…indiscretion.”
I flinched.
“You need protection.”
“I have a gun.” I scowled. “I know how to use it.”
“Sweetheart.” My dad spoke for the first time since sitting down. “You don’t understand the ramifications. Tristian has put the entire family in jeopardy. At this point, we have no idea who he was working with, but it left every single one of us exposed; not only are we having to worry about new information getting discovered—the old information has already spread like wildfire throughout the Cosa Nostra. The Five Families have long memories, and they like their pound of flesh.”
I gritted my teeth. “Sounds to me like they already got it.”
“One would think,” Andrei snapped.
My dad shot me a look so sad, so horribly telling, that I wanted to puke. It was the first time in years that I noticed the hard lines on his face, the wrinkles near his mouth, the death in his eyes. If the mafia didn’t kill him—the job certainly would, wouldn’t it? His massive hands flexed and unflexed as he laid them on the table in a way that looked like surrender.
My father was a strong man; it was weird to see him appear weak, even for a second.
Andrei patted him on the arm. “We will take care of this; you worry too much. I’ll stay in New York until she’s dealt with.”
“She’s all I have.” Dad sighed again, and I never wanted the ground to swallow me whole more than I did in that second.
“She’s more important alive than dead,” Andrei added, simply like they were talking about the weather or the latest soccer game. They spoke as if I wasn’t in the room like I was a child, or worse…
A victim.
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe,” Romeo stated out of the blue.
My gaze fell upon his, and for an instant, we locked eyes.
“I know,” Dad whispered. “Because you are a good man, angry, cold-blooded, but good.”
“We can’t all be saints, can we, Romeo?” Andrei grinned over at Romeo. “Especially when it’s so much fun sinning.”
Romeo cleared his throat.
My entire body went still as I waited for the final judgment.
“Eden, Romeo will stay with you until we know what we’re dealing with. He’ll protect you from outside forces and, more importantly—the ones within.”
My jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
Andrei’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a comedian?”
“N-no.”
“Didn’t think so,” he bit, shooting to his feet. “Romeo stays. You and your son need protection, but—” He adjusted his black tie. “More than that, when word spreads, people might get curious, and when they get curious, they tend to get lazy, if anyone wants to shut you up or discover more information on what Tristian was doing—they’ll come here, and when they do, I’ll have my black widow waiting.”
I hated that nickname.