“I can’t discuss that with you,” Antonio says.
“Maybe they’re just soldiers to you, but I grew up with those men. They’re my family.”
His gaze tightens as he leans closer. “We took a few men hostage, interrogated them in their own home,” he says and cocks a grin. “But they’re alive. Most of them.”
“Most of them?” I croak.
“We kill only when it’s absolutely necessary. Not for sport,” Antonio says. “Do you have the address for the safe house in Saugerties?”
I stall for a moment. I’m betraying Mikhail and the bratva. If I tell Antonio, I can never go back.
He stares at me, waiting for the address.
“I’ll take you there,” I say.
He snorts at my suggestion. “The hell you will. You’ll stay here with your children. My men don’t need to babysit them.”
“There are plenty of other people around to keep an eye on them,” I suggest. It doesn’t have to be his guards.
“The answer is no.” Antonio is firm with his decision.
“Fine, then you’ll have to find another way to get the address.”
He grabs me by the arm and drags me across the hall, shoving me inside a room. He slams the door behind us, leaving the two of us alone.
It’s a library, with built-in bookshelves towering on two walls and a window ledge turned into a cubby to read.
I don’t peg him for a man who reads. Let alone in a room that feels this inviting and sunny. “This was Roberto’s library?” That doesn’t fit my understanding of the Italian mobster, the monster who ordered my son to be taken and sold.
“No, it was created long before Roberto became don,” Antonio says. “This house, the complex, has been in the family for generations. According to Mario, this used to be a playroom. When Roberto chose not to have children, he converted it into a library. He wanted the window boarded up, and any evidence of what this room was destroyed.”
“But the window is still there, so is the nook,” I say, pointing out the quiet place to read.
“Mario hired contractors to redesign the room, but he always believed that the don would desire an heir.”
“Why would he think that?” I ask. A man who kidnaps children for a living doesn’t strike me as father material.
Antonio steps toward the window. “It’s not unusual for a don to desire a child, to hand the throne onward, but Roberto never forged a relationship with anyone.”
He stares out the window and has me perplexed.
Does Antonio want a relationship? Is he hoping that Liam will take the don position when he’s no longer capable? That’s years away, but the nagging thought still fleets through the back of my mind.
“And you’re different?” I ask.
“I hope I am,” Antonio says. He shifts to meet my stare. “The address for the safe house,Tesorina. I need it.” The gruffness has returned.
Betrayal burns through me as I whisper the address to him.
He hurries out of the library, leaving me alone.
Do I mean anything to Antonio, or did he use me to get the information he wanted?
I stand there transfixed, in a daze.
What have I done?
Did I contribute to Mikhail’s execution?