“You ran to me, desperate to c
onvince me of what my uncle was doing. Now I’m here telling you that I believe you—that our son has overheard him talking about how it’s time to take someone out—and you suddenly can’t trust me?”
“Julia, it isn’t—”
“What? It isn’t what? Romeo, if you couldn’t trust me, then why did you let me come over? Why am I in your room? My uncle is insistent on us getting closer, on us seeing one another and reconciling. Now, more than ever, I know that’s how he’s trying to get to you. He’s making me feel like it’s my fault for bringing it this far, but it’s not. It’s him. He’s being manipulative and orchestrating this from the shadows, and I know that now, Romeo. He has slipped up in front of my son. Our son.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed again and took Romeo’s hands within mine. I could feel him shaking. His eyes were stoic, but his body was betraying him.
He never could hide from me.
“I’m in your corner,” I said. “But you have to talk with me.”
“I figured out what was stolen from my home that night,” Romeo said.
“Good. What did they take?”
“My father’s family ring with the Martine insignia. And it surfaced in an evidence bag in the case locker having to do with the dead gun runners.”
“And you weren’t wearing it that night?” I asked.
“I’ve never touched it. I didn’t even know until last night where my father kept it.”
“That doesn't make sense then. Someone had to have planted it,” I said.
“Someone did. My contact said Stefano has cop in his pocket, an Officer Johnson. He thinks that if anyone planted the ring, it was him.”
“How would my uncle have known about—”
“My father’s act of trust to yours was showing Giuliano where he kept his most prized possession. My father cherished that ring. He rarely wore it. The only times I saw him wear it were for formal occasions or important business meetings. That was it. That would’ve been the ultimate sign of trust from my father to yours.”
“And my father’s close relationship with Stefano could’ve meant my father said something to him along the line at some point in time.”
“Yep.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It is, Julia. It’s really happening.”
“Did you kill them?”
I turned my face up and looked straight into those beautiful blue eyes.
“Did you kill those men on the docks?”
“Only one,” he said.
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you kill him?”
“Because he was holding my family hostage.”
“I’m not following.”
“I went to the dock to tell them we didn’t need the guns. I was ready to pay them plenty of money for the inconvenience and even told them that they could easily find another buyer in no time. But it didn’t work. They told me I was going to take the guns, pay them their money, and then keep them on payroll and keep them connected. They would send us another shipment whether we wanted it or not. They said they had no intentions of destroying the connection they had with my father since he paid them a lot of money. They were holding my family hostage, Julia.”
I saw the pain in his eyes, the remorse and the guilt he felt. His nose crinkled like he smelled something bad, and he shook his head like he was still in disbelief. Like he couldn't believe he’d done it himself.
He truly felt sorry for killing that man.