But a cop buddy of mine walked up before I could shoo them all out.
“Romeo.”
“Lambert.”
“Look, before we head out of here, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Can it wait?” I asked.
“I don’t think you want it to,” he said.
“Then spit it out. I’m in a bit of pain here.”
“Then I’ll make this quick. That detective is poking around, asking questions about your possible involvement with those dead gun runners at the docks.”
“What?” I asked.
“There’s no proof. Nothing at all. Just his hunch. But it’s an avenue he’s been inquiring about, and we’re required to look into it. Wanted you to know since I know what you’re trying to do with your family and all.”
“Thanks, Lambert. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Give your mother my love. Tell her my wife’s got leftover tea she made last night.”
“Oh, she could use some of that right now. Someone will be by to get it later.”
“She’ll have it ready for you,” he said.
My mind was spinning. I left no evidence behind. No shell casings. No bullets to trace back to us. No footprints. Nothing. I didn’t take the guns, there were no cameras around, and I got rid of the burner phone that tipped off the damn police in the first place. Nothing about that encounter tracked back to me in any way.
So how the hell did a detective have a “hunch” about it? Unless someone was talking out of turn.
I got up from the chair and started looking around. The ambulance was driving away, and the cops were finally leaving. I started searching for anything that was missing. A vase. A picture. A fucking fork. I checked behind all the pictures and opened all of the family safes to see if anything had been accessed and stolen. That was what those men said. That they got what they came for.
But nothing seemed to be out of place.
Fuck. What if I was being set up?
I went back through the house and started searching for things that shouldn't be there. Things that were maybe planted by those two goons. They obviously didn’t need me. Otherwise, I would’ve woken up somewhere else. And who the fuck were they? The only person that came to mind freely was Stefano Bianchi, but it didn’t make any sense. He’d been talking a truce, though I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it.
It wasn’t beyond him. Stefano was a brute to his core. He used manipulation and murder to get what he wanted. And if he was behind this, then he had a long-term end goal in mind. But what was it? Why now?
Nothing in my house backed up any of those theories. The burglars didn’t take anything, and it didn’t look as if they’d planted anything either.
But my vision was obscured by the pounding in my head, so I couldn't fully rely on my own judgment anyway.
I made my way back upstairs and reached for my cell phone. I sent a message to the family doctor and told him I needed him to come look me the fuck over. My nausea was gone, and the paramedics told me I didn’t have a concussion, but I wanted to be sure. There was no one I could trust until I figured out what the fuck was going on, and my best bet was to stick with people who were closest to me until I could fuse all the pieces together.
I sat on the edge of my bed and sighed. I closed my eyes and conjured the face of my son. Matteo. He had been here. In my home. Standing there smiling up at me. Teasing his mother alongside me like I always saw us doing. Riling Julia up before expressing our love for her like fathers and sons did.
It killed me that he’d seen the blood on the floor.
I put my head in my hands and drew in a deep breath. I tossed the ice pack to the ground, watching as it splattered water along the carpeted floor. He had been here. We all had been there. Standing there, like a family. Talking, like a family. Smiling, like a family.
This couldn’t go on any longer.
I knew where my loyalty lied.
It was to Julia. And Matteo. The family I had created out of love. That was who I needed to side with. That was who I needed to keep safe. No matter what it took of me. No matter what it cost me. They were the priority.