Page 25 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
I don’t understand. Everything about him in this moment screamsmobster—the gun, the unapologetic entrance, the darkened gaze. The blood on his hands.
The weight of a hundred stares fades into the background as I wait for him to turn his gaze in my direction.
He doesn’t.
I feel two hands clasp my shoulders and turn me firmly away. I try to twist back around because I need to see his face. I need to know what the hell is going on.
Why does Andrew have a gun?
“Come on, honey. Let’s go get some air.” Allegra istrying her hardest to be nurturing, but her voice is tight with nerves. I keep trying to catch Andrew’s attention until I’m ushered out of a side exit to a private yard. The door closes and I face Allegra.
“I want to go back inside.” I try to push my past her but my aunt is stubbornly strong.
“No, Sera. You’ll stay out here with me. It’s safer here for now.”
“The shooters are dead?—”
“One of them got away,” she reminds me. “But that’s not why we’re out here.”
She levels me with a serious look that says she wants the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
I shrug my arms helplessly. “He’s a guest at the hotel. Andrew Stone. We just talked a few times.” I shrug again. “I don’t know what any of that was about, or why he’s holding a gun.” I try to push past her again. “Please, Allegra, I need to speak to him.”
“No.” Her command is firm. “He’s speaking with Cristiano right now. That is a conversation you do not want to get in the middle of.”
I look in my aunt’s eyes and see something like looks like obligation. Is this what we are now as a family? Obligated? We have a duty to obey the Di Santo’s?
“What did he mean?” I ask, rubbing my hands nervously. “When he said ‘I want her,’ what did he mean?”
Allegra cocks her head to one side and now the obligation has morphed into pity. “I don’t know, Sera.”
The door opens and Papa and Cristiano walk out into the yard. I back up against a wall.
“What’s going on?” I ask urgently. “Why is Andrew here? How do you know him? Will someone please tell me what thefuckjust happened?”
Papa’s eyes pop. I never curse but if any occasion was going to call for a curse word, this would be it.
Cristiano is the first to speak. “There’s no one of that name in this hotel. The man back there who claims to want you is Andreas Corioni, Benito’s older brother.”
Panic floods my nervous system. They’re talking nonsense. How can I get them to see that?
“No,” I say, in a measured tone. “That man in there is Andrew Stone. He’s a guest at this hotel. He works in technology and owns a company in Massachusetts.” The pitch of my voice rises at an alarming rate. “He has no connection to the criminal world—at all. You’ve got the wrong person. He isn’t even Italian!”
Cristiano drops his gaze to the ground and rubs a thumb and forefinger over his chin. The old hatred I felt for him, that I’ve tried my darndest to bury since the moment it became clear he was genuinely looking out for Trilby, starts to creep back up my throat. It sends a bitter taste flooding into my mouth.
“You’re in shock,” Cristiano says, lifting his lids and shooting me a soft, compassionate look. It makes the bitterness taste no sweeter. “I have no doubt AndreasCorioni is telling the truth. I see Benito in every inch of him. It’s as plain as night and day. When he told you he was a businessman, he was telling you the truth. He just negotiated a deal with us to handle all of Boston’s criminal undertakings, in our name, in exchange for you. I’m afraid, when he told you he was called Andrew Stone, he was lying.”
“Why?” I whisper, unable to believe any of it. “Why would he do that?”
When Cristiano’s lips curl into a sad smile, I see it.
Andrew lied so that I would tell him things. So I would give him intel on my family, like when and where my sister was getting married, and who was coming to the wedding. That’s why he always listened so intently. He never cared about me. He only cared about getting close to the Di Santo’s.
I feel sick to my stomach.
My teeth snap together and words hiss through them. “What does hewantfrom me?”
“He wants you to be his wife,” Cristiano replies, with a lightness that tells me he doesn’t know any more than that.
