Page 62 of Salvatore

“Are you aware of his reasons for attending the funeral of your employer?” he asks.

“I have no clue.” I wish I did, but despite the influx of information over the past twenty-four hours that revelation got lost in the wash.

“Don’t lie to me.” Gabriel’s eyes narrow.

“I’m not.” My heart thunders, but I can’t backtrack now. “I don’t know why he was there. I was too busy grieving the boss who took me in when you warned everyone in this city to let me die on the streets.”

“And my life would’ve been far more simple if you had.” He sits forward, his elbows resting on the table. “There are whispers that my enemies are using your funeral home to dispose of bodies.”

I scoff, poised to tell him how ridiculous that is when all the other ridiculousness I’ve recently been made aware of pins me like a butterfly in a display case—Liv dating a criminal. Carlo being associated with the mafia.

And goddamn Hugo, who’d previously been a Pelosi Funeral Home employee, until I’d found the cremator warm when arriving at work multiple mornings this year without Liv or Carlo being the ones using it. He’d been fired over the suspicion… but had adamantly denied being the culprit.

Fuck, Liv, don’t tell me you’ve doubled down on your stupidity and mixed business with pleasure.

I breathe through the painful unease. “Those whispers aren’t true. I’d know.”

There’s no way in hell I’d know.

Salvatore and his family would’ve kept it under wraps. Which would further explain Liv’s need to keep secret her new diet of mafia dick.

Gabriel scrutinizes me. “Are you sure about that?”

Not even a little bit. In fact, the accusation makes a whole hell of a lot of sense.

“Yes.” I hold my chin high. “I’m sure. All staff are on site Monday to Friday. And someone is always on call out of hours to pick up decedents. If someone was using the cremator without permission, I’d know. It takes hours for the retort to cool after use.”

“Well, I’m not convinced,” Gabriel muses. “We’ve lost many men this year, and very few bodies have been found.”

“Probably because we live by the ocean,” I drawl. “I’m sure the sharks have been well fed.”

His expression hardens, the rage I’d known in my youth glaring back at me. “You’ve forgotten how much I despise your sharp tongue,” he snaps. “Javier and Miguel are among the missing. Don’t you think Aunt Teresa and Camilla deserve closure?”

What those two beautiful women deserve is the peace that comes from living without threat from my heinous uncle and the devil he spawned. But I keep that thought to myself, hoping to deescalate the situation.

Gabriel sighs. “You continue to disappoint me, Isabella. But not to worry.” He pushes from the table and moves to stand. “You will stay here for the time being. Just in case you remember something that may be helpful to your family.”

Panic raises every hair on my body. “No. I won’t stay. I’m not your daughter anymore.”

“You’ll always be my daughter. No matter how hard you try to deny it.” He jerks his chin toward the kitchen where Alonsoand his henchman dump their beer cans on the counter and start toward me.

“No.” I fight against the bindings on my wrists, tugging and pulling. “You can’t do this. I’ll—” I struggle to form a formidable threat, but there isn’t any. The cops won’t help me, and I can’t drag my friends into this mess. Yet again, I’m on my own and the one-woman show is getting old quick.

“That’s right.” My brother grabs me by the back of the neck and gets in my face, his beer breath flooding my senses. “You’ll do as you’re fucking told.”

I thrash and thump at his chest, my fear-driven aggression cut short when the gun man closes in, raising the hilt of his weapon. “Don’t?—”

He cold-cocks my cheek, the point of impact exploding with pain.

Black clouds my vision.

I must lose a second of consciousness because the next thing I know I’m being dragged along the carpeted hall, into a room smothered in enough pink to make Barbie envious.

They dump me on the floor near the bed and walk for the door.

“Stop.” I scramble to my hands and knees, struggling against my throbbing head and wonky vision to keep my balance. “Wait.”

Alonso pauses in the doorway, looking down the Roman nose Gabriel’s side of the family gave to him.

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