Page 91 of Souls and Sorrows

Cash’s brows draw in, and he starts to counter, but Vitus slams his fist on the desk.

“There is no keeping anyone on, Ariana. Ricci Inc. isgone.”

Dread fills my gut. “What?”

“All the contacts, every port outside of the city where we got product, every single dollar sitting in offshore accounts that managed to evade the Feds—gone. The registered name doesn’t even exist anymore, and the protective contracts we had in place with elected officials have just upped and disappeared. Whatever you did, you did it real fucking good, and I want to know why you insist on ruining my goddamn life.”

What does he mean, it’s gone? Organized crime doesn’t just go away.

Not even with the way many crime families run their organizations as Fortune 500 companies, using legitimate stocks and investments like my father to hide his trafficking and protection rackets. That level of power and intricacy doesn’t just disappear.

“I didn’t—”

“If anyone’s ruined your life, Mr. Tallerico, I’m afraid that’s likely a result of your poor personal choices. And if you have formal allegations you’d like to make against my wife, I’d suggest a trip to the police station. This office will only partake in her defense.”

I swallow, staring at my ex and trying to make sense of what he’s saying. A week ago, Ricci Inc. existed. Drug operations were being shifted solely to a couple of smaller families up north, where people tend to be less suspicious of the locals. Protection services were still being enforced, especially with politicians who wanted their voting records doctored or past mistakes erased.

Ermes Barbieri is still running his family operation, so unless he’s somehow absorbed ours, I can’t fathom how Ricci Inc. could just… disappear.

“You hitched yourself to a sinking ship,” Vitus says, pointing a finger at Cash. “If one of Rafe’s men doesn’t gut her for turning into an informant, they’ll have her ass in a federal prison faster than you can threaten me.”

“This is a sinking ship you wanted to kill me over,” Cash points out. “One you’ve tried having detained for the disappearance of your parents—”

Vitus’s face turns crimson. “Shekilledthem! I fucking know she did. And she probably had that psycho brother-in-law of hers help her clean it up, so we wouldn’t be able to prove it, but there’s no—”

Cash pushes the button on his intercom, sighing. “Zephyr, please have security remove Mr. Tallerico.” He pauses. “Inform them that he’s become quite hostile… and next time, please warn me before allowing a visitor back.”

She voices an immediate apology, explaining that he got through somehow when she was in the restroom. Two security guards show up within seconds, forcibly removing Vitus from the premises.

He glares at me while they drag him away, and I clench my jaw, violence pumping through me. Something doesn’t add up with all of this or the fact that this is the first I’ve even seen of him since Cash bid on me at the Anteros auction.

Given how possessive he was of me when we were together, it doesn’t make sense that he’d stay away.

I’m on edge, uncertain of what’s going on as the world seemingly implodes around me.

When we’re caught in silence again, Cash swivels around to me, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I need to know what you did with Fiero and Cosetta.” My lips part, and he shakes his head, reaching out to grip my bicep. “Don’t give me vague answers or excuses, Little Nightmare. Just the truth. I cannot help you if I don’t know the full story.”

My gaze drifts down to that scar on his mouth, my vision growing hazy as I recall the night we met.

The stuff I did after.

It was mostly a test. Just to see if I could actually go through with it.

Cyanide takes less than an hour to shut down the internal organs of a mostly healthy adult man. The timeline is slightly shorter for an adult woman.

Kal had warned me that it wouldn’t be pretty. They’d lose control of their bodily functions and possibly seize before leaving consciousness behind. The primary bathroom in the Tallericos’ home was covered in vomit, to the point where I couldn’t step anywhere until my brother-in-law showed up to help clean.

I don’t know what he did with the bodies—that much is true. He rejected my request to leave them there as a message to my philandering fiancé, especially since he was getting involved himself. Now a family man, Kal Anderson swears he’s left this world behind.

We both know the truth, but I let him take care of things his way anyway.

I’m not sure I’m fit for prison.

Sucking in a deep breath, I swing my gaze to Cash’s. “The truth is,” I begin, ignoring the acid incinerating my esophagus, “I was born a broken girl, to people who would spend their lives breaking me even more. So, when the occasional opportunity arises to reclaim some of the soul they damaged, I take it.”

And I have never felt even an ounce of remorse for it because younger me deserved so much more. Younger me deserved someone who protected her, and I couldn’t then.

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