Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I lift my phone and check my messages. I blink. I stare at the message from Sarah and try to process it.
I found the name of the club where Nick died.
Club? It wasn’t a club, though. He got into a fight outside the train station.
That’s what they told you. I got more details. Can you meet me for lunch?
Name the time and place.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” I say with a smile, forcing my lips together so I don’t betray what’s really going on. Sarah found out more information about Nick’s death. I may not have loved my husband, but I deserve to know the truth of it. My daughter lost her father. I’m killing myself as a single mom without a partner, doing it all on my own, and even though I can, it doesn’t mean I should have to.
“Everything’s fine,” I lie. “Now where were we?”
An hour later, Ricco’s gone. I've washed my hands, but the scent of warm vanilla still lingers. I can still visualize his tanned skin beneath my hands, still hear that rumble of a voice that glides through me like melted butter.
Sarah sits across from me with a chicken Caesar salad that looks big enough to feed a frat party. She’s cross-legged on the chair, her fork poised to dive in.
“You gonna help me eat this thing?”
“I feel it’s my duty and responsibility,” I say with a serious nod. I grab a second fork. “First, tell me where he was.”
Sarah gives me a smile. “The place is called Bella Notte. It’s a sex club owned by the Boston Italian mafia.”
I drop the fork, my appetite suddenly gone. Sex club. Where people…probably do kinky things. Uninhibited. On display. Freely.
I swallow.
“How do I get in?”
Sarah shakes her head. “Is there anything that I can say that will sway you?”
I pretend to think about it, tapping my chin thoughtfully. “Uh, no.”
She sighs. “Babe, if that’s what you want, you’ll have to call Jason.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE FAVOR
Dani
"Jason," I say when he answers, my voice tight with resolve. "I need a favor."
My old friend, a successful attorney who works in a private firm, is silent for a moment. His connections extend well beyond the court room. "Hey, Dani, what's going on?"
"I need an alias," I explain, my fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the dresser. "And I need a way into a club…”
“What club?”
I swallow and lick my lips before I answer. “Bella Notte."
"Bella Notte?" Jason's surprise is palpable. "Why the hell would you want to get into that place?"
My grip on the phone tightens. "That’s where Nick died. I need to investigate."
The line crackles with tension before Jason sighs. "Listen, you know that case is closed. You know they have eyewitnesses that said he was drunk, tripped, and it was a freak accident. Daniella, he hit his head on the concrete, nothing more.”
“And you know as well as I do that I’m not that stupid.”
Nick was a lying, cheating jerk, but he wasn’t the kind to get fall-over drunk. If he was anything, he was graceful. The man didn’t have a toenail a millimeter too long.
Jason curses. “Daniella, this is dangerous. I can’t be party to you doing anything that involves the Montavio family.”
Wait a minute. The Montavio family. There’s that name again.
My skin prickles. I swallow. “Did you say… Montavio?”
No.
“Yeah, Dani, they own that place and a few others in Boston. You don’t want to fuck around with them.”
I close my eyes and draw in a breath.
I have, though. I’ve already taken one of them as my client.
If I go, will I get to see Ricco?
How would he respond to me being there?
“You don’t have to be involved. All I’m asking is for you to do me a favor and if you can’t do it, I’ll move on.”
“Jesus Christ, Dani.”
“You know you can… c’mon, Jay.”
“Fine. I can. But are you sure about this, Daniella?"
My heart pounds in my chest, but there's no turning back now. "I'm sure. Please, Jason, I need your help."
"Alright, alright," he concedes after a beat. "Give me a few hours. I'll get you what you need. But please promise me you'll be careful, because those guys are fucking psychos."
"I promise," I say, my voice unwavering, my heart set on the path ahead.
Jason knocks on the door at half past ten with everything I need. Twenty-nine years old with impeccable taste in clothes and a flawless complexion, Jason’s as beautiful as he is intelligent.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” I say with a smile as I gesture him in. I keep my voice low, so we don’t wake Emmy. “You got a new boyfriend or something?”
Jason bites his lip and raises his eyebrows. I squeal.
“Jay! You don’t!”
“I do I do I doooo,” he says in a singsong voice. “Do you remember that piano teacher at the elementary school I told you about?”