Page 146 of Forsaking All Others

“I’m sorry, fiamma mia,” I murmured, squeezing her neck gently. “Would it make you feel better if I skinned her alive or gutted her, instead of merely letting her die from her injuries alone?”

Fia blinked up at me with wide eyes before a little, almost hysterical giggle burst from her lips. She lifted her fingertips to trail them along my stubbled jaw.

“I don’t think so, Ghost, but it’s good to know I have the option.”

“Boss,” Ciro said from the door, his face pale and urgent. “Bosses,” he corrected, holding up a tablet. “You need to see this.”

He stalked over to the bed and set up the tablet on the nightstand for Dario.

“In breaking news,” a reporter on the local channel said over footage of police at a luxurious mansion that the bottom of the screen claimed was in the Gold Coast of Chicago. “International businessman Felipe Malatesta has been found dead alongside a number of his associates at a rental property in Chicago tonight. Eyewitnesses claim they saw local magnate Dario Ferretti leaving the property earlier this evening looking visibly upset.”

“Fuck,” Dario, Fia, and I spat at the same time.

A moment later, the sound of sirens grew loud just outside the house.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Fiammetta

I opened the door in my white silk robe, pressing one hand to my yawning mouth and the other to the sleek top of Cerberus’s head where he sat at my side as two officers stood on my doorstep, an array of police cars, lights flashing, arranged in my circular driveway.

I blinked at the male and female cop in surprise. “Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Ferretti?” The woman stepped forward to show me her badge. “My name is Detective Ansley, and this is Detective Davis. Is your husband home?”

I blinked again owlishly and took a moment, as if I was still half asleep. “My husband? No, I’m afraid he is away on business.”

“You don’t mind if we check ourselves, do you?” she asked with a feral smile.

I smiled back, my own saccharine sweet. “Of course, if I could just see your warrant?”

Both detectives scowled.

“We don’t have one yet, but we can be back with one,” Detective Ansley offered. “It would go much easier for you and your husband if you cooperated, Mrs. Ferretti.”

“Given I don’t even know why you’re on my doorstep in the early hours of the morning, I have to disagree.”

Her lips thinned. “There was a murder tonight. Do you know the name Felipe Malatesta?”

I pursed my lips as I considered. “Well, yes, actually. He was an old family friend back when my father was still alive and I lived in Sicily.”

“Well, he’s been killed,” she said baldly, watching my reaction. “Shot in the head at close range.”

I winced and pressed a hand to my throat. “How awful. I’ll have to write to his family. Though . . . I don’t see why you’ve come all this way to tell me.”

The cops shared a look as if they were dealing with a particularly stupid child.

“Because,” the male detective said slowly, “we believe your husband killed him.”

A little laugh escaped my mouth before I let my smile wobble and fall flat. “You can’t be serious? Dario? He’s a businessman whom I’ve never even seen eat without a knife and fork, and that includes deep-dish pizza. You think he actually . . . killed someone?”

Behind the chaos of policemen in my yard, a car with tinted windows pulled up, and a moment later, Lando emerged, stalking across the yard with utter disregard for the uniforms who tried to stop him.

Both detectives turned when he reached the steps to our door and waited warily as he stepped into place beside me, tucking my body under his arm protectively.

Cerberus, who hated anyone touching me but the twins or, occasionally, Bonnie, growled softly at Lando.

“I came as soon as I heard the cops were harassing my daughter-in-law when her husband is far from home,” he said imperiously. “I was closer, but our lawyer is on the way.”