“His body turned up yesterday. It was left where it could be found. Whoever killed him is sending a message. Now tell me why they executed him.”

“Why do you care?”

He stood, ran his hand through his hair, and looked away, shaking his head as if he were having some conversation, an internal argument. He then turned back to me.

“Just fucking tell me.”

“Because he’d gone to the feds about exactly what you’re doing to me now. He’d started to do some work for Victor. I’d told him not to. Told him Victor was bad news. He found out the hard way, and when he tried to do the right thing, they killed him. They tortured him, and they made me fucking watch.” My voice broke, and I wiped away a rogue tear. “I think that was the part that broke him.”

The room fell silent, and when I looked up, I found Dominic’s gaze steady on mine, affected but silent.

“Did you have anything to do with that? With Mateo going to the feds?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know what Victor was doing. I didn’t know he was selling girls, not until my brother told me.”

“Why didn’t Victor kill you?”

“Because he’s a sick fuck?” I tried to make light of it, but a sob caught in my throat.

The buzz of a cell-phone message interrupted, and Dominic reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, his gaze on me.

“You were engaged to Angus Scava’s son, James?”

I nodded. “When he died, Victor came into the picture. He was next in line, since Mr. Scava didn’t have any other kids.”

“Mr. Scava? You say that with some tenderness, Gia. Scava is not a nice man.”

“He was always kind to me.”

Dominic shook his head as if what I said were unbelievable.

“How can you be so sure he didn’t order this?” He gestured around the room.

“No. No way. James loved me, and he loved James. He wouldn’t do this to me.”

“You’re a fool.”

“You have no heart, no soul. I wouldn’t expect you to understand love like that, a father’s love.”

Dominic recoiled as if I’d stabbed him with a knife. It took him a moment to recover.

“Love is changeable. Disposable. It’s not everlasting, not in our world. Only a fool believes in happily-ever-after, Gia.”

He turned his attention to his phone then. His face changed. Confusion and then alarm crossed over his features as he read the message.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to put a bullet in Victor Scava’s head,” I said.

He looked at me, his forehead creased, eyes dark. Then, without a word, he walked out the door and locked me inside, leaving me once again in this dark, dank room, confused but also, somehow, hopeful.