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We said our goodbyes, then Abramo, with his face like stone, escorted me back into the car.

“Abramo, would you happen to have a phone charger?” I held up my nearly dead phone.

“I don’t, but I’ll get one.” He waited for me to climb in.

We started down the road, and I leaned back and let my head soak in all Cara had told me, particularly the bit about Renzo. Over the years, I had replayed that day so many times in my head that it was like a mini movie trailer set on loop. Had I really rid the world of one more villain? There was a part of me that hoped he had rotted away in that alley. I wondered how I was never charged. My prints were all over that pipe, and I knew they were in the police database from a breaking and entering I’d done a few years before. I’d gotten off scot-free, but still I had been processed. I wasn’t complaining. My freedom and his death were well deserved, but it was the one secret I’d kept locked up tight. I never told a soul about it, not even Wyatt. Maybe Mad Red had witnessed my crazy moment and had stashed the weapon before anyone found it. Either way, I felt justice was served, and now I knew he was truly gone from my life forever.

I was so lost in my thoughts that it startled me when the car came to an abrupt stop. I blinked and looked around, seeing that we had stopped between two buildings. My heart started to pound as Abramo turned the engine off.

“I need to talk to someone. Stay here.”

“Where are we?”

“Stay here,” he repeated before he jumped out of the car and locked the doors.

I unclipped my seatbelt and dug around in my purse for my phone but discovered it was on its last leg, and after two taps on the home screen, it died.

Dammit.

I rummaged some more and found a pen but no paper, not even a gum wrapper. Where did the newspaper from earlier go? Mr. Friendly must have tossed it. I leaned forward and dug around on the front seat and in the glovebox, but I came up empty. With a huff, I sat back down and searched the back pocket of the seat in front of me. I cringed at the thought of what I might be touching, but at the very bottom I was rewarded.

“Yes,” I mumbled at the little piece of cardstock. It had some writing on one side, so I flipped it over and wrote down the numbers above the door Abramo had disappeared through. I glanced back and wrote down the street name I could see. Maybe it was nothing, but Elio said rules were rules, and Abramo had officially broken the number one rule of a driver. He left me alone, and second, he left me alone in a car in a strange area. Normally, I wouldn’t rat someone out, but I hadn’t wanted Abramo as my driver in the first place.

I tucked the paper in my purse, scrunched down in the seat, and waited for him to return. He didn’t return for another ten minutes. When he did, he slipped behind the wheel and glared at me in the mirror without an explanation. I didn’t give him the pleasure of asking him anything as he pulled away. I didn’t say a word the entire way home, and his little glances in my direction gave me the creeps. I would not be going anywhere with this man again.

He parked out front of the Hill House, and he didn’t get out of the car to open the door. He just sat. I reached for the doorhandle to get out of the car, and he turned around in the driver’s seat.

“I want to apologize for leaving you alone in the car today. I needed to pick up something for my niece, and it was the only opportunity I had before her birthday tomorrow. If it counts, I could see you the entire time.”

Something told me not to trust him, but maybe he was telling the truth.

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what to say, so I jumped out and hurried inside. I did catch his intense stare as I closed the door.

I found Donte in the kitchen elbows deep in dinner.

“Hey, are you okay?” He stopped what he was doing and eyed me.

“Is there any wine?” I felt my nerves tingling. “Better yet, is there anything stronger?”

He handed me a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

I poured a small amount and took the shot. My eyes watered at the taste, but I poured another.

“Donte,” I grunted through the burn, “what can you tell me about Abramo?”

His mouth dropped, and he looked around before he moved closer.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I just spent the day with him as my driver, and I will never do it again.”

“He’s not good, Sienna,” he warned with such intensity that I wanted to shiver. “How did he become your driver?”

“Elio arranged it.”

His eyes closed and he cursed. “The family thinks he’s great, but they don’t see him for who he is. He does all the dirty work for Mrs. Greta. That’s Elio’s nonna,” he clarified, and I bit my tongue to not share my own feelings on her. “No one touches or speaks badly of Mrs. Greta. You’ll soon learn that the older generation holds tremendous power within any syndicate. Anyway,” he shook his head to get back on track, “I’ve heard stories about Abramo that make some nightmares look like a child’s show.” He suddenly stopped talking and went back to work as footsteps became louder. “Shh,” he warned.

“Why didn’t I get an invite to the party?” Mariano came in and snatched the bottle from my hand then poured himself a double shot.


Tags: J.L. Drake Quiet Mafia Romance