Page 95 of From Rome, With Hate

My chest tightens and my vision blurs. I can’t think straight.

Rhys O’Connell, head of the Irish mafia, is my fucking cousin, and my brother didn’t feel it necessary to tell me.

I’m still working on breathing properly when Rome’s hand lands on my thigh again. His fingers press into my flesh, pulling me back from losing it altogether.

He mouths, “I love you,”and, “It’s okay.”

It’s all I need in this moment to keep me from falling apart.

“I assume you didn’t call just to tell Julianna something you assumed Holt had already told her about you being family,” Rome points out.

“No, I didn’t.” Rhys’s tone changes. “As I said earlier, once I found out Julianna was your wife, your business became mine. I was already searching for the ones behind Tobias’s murder andcame across this piece of information in the process. It made this news even more important to share with you.”

Knowing Rhys was tracking down the man after us all this time is oddly comforting.

“Wait.” Rome pauses. “How did you find out about us being married?”

“It’s a simple matter of public record, Montgomery,” Rhys answers, annoyed. “Honestly, considering the social status of the two of you, I’m not sure how you managed to keep this quiet all these years. Now, moving on to the reason I called.”

Rome and I hold our breath.

“My work isn’t complete, but I tracked down the other man who tried to kill you. Check the message I just sent.”

A message box appears at the top of Rome’s phone. He clicks on it, and both of us immediately blanche at the picture of a man tied to a chair in what looks like some sort of abandoned warehouse. One arm is tied behind him, the other resting in his lap. There’s the familiar Montgomery snake tattoo wrapped around his arm. He’s drenched in blood and his throat is slit from ear to ear.

My hand flies to my mouth to keep myself from vomiting. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I hadn’t looked.

“What the fuck, Rhys?” Rome exclaims. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“Not really my style,” he clips out in response. “But I need you to look again. Do you recognize this asshole?”

I crack my eyes open to see Rome bringing his phone closer to his face, studying the image of the dead man on his screen.

“No,” he answers, pressing his lips together in thought before asking, “Why? Am I supposed to?”

“Before I slit his throat, I managed to get a little information out of him.”

Rome clicks out of the picture and looks at me. “What information?”

“His name was Elia Mattia. His brother Enzo was the one who murdered Tobias. Both were instructed to kill you under the direction of Francesco Ferrari.”

“Oh, shit.” Rome falls back against the chair and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.

“Who is that?” I ask meekly.

“Francesco Ferrari is head of the Italian mafia in Italy,” Rome answers.

“Oh.” I blink rapidly, the heaviness of this moment weighing on me.

“Why would Francesco want Julianna and I killed?” Rome asks Rhys. “He isn’t a Montgomery, and as far as I knew, my father and him were cordial. Not quite friends but certainly not enemies.”

“See.” Rhys tuts in disapproval. “This is where you lose me, Montgomery. I have no interest in the feuds between the Italians. I don’t give a single fuck. All I care about is the fact that these fuckers killed Tobias, then tried to kill my cousin. I’m not one to usually make these sorts of calls, but considering the circumstances, I made this one out of courtesy.”

“Courtesy meaning letting us know the man after us is dead,” Rome states, sounding far away, like he’s lost while trying to wrap his mind around these revelations.

“Yes,” Rhys answers. “And the fact I took care of him for you.”

“Thank you,” Rome mutters, almost as if it pains him to say it.