I guess he’d gotten home from Natalie’s. Asshole.

I ignored the messages, got out of bed, and cracked the door open. The voices came from downstairs. It was Isabella and a man. Although I knew the voice, I couldn’t place it. It didn’t belong here.

“You promised me. I don’t want him hurt!”

My sister sounded agitated.

“I’m placating. Relax.”

“How the fuck can I relax? God, I wish this were over!”

I stepped out onto the landing and crept over to the stairs. Hearing the familiar creak on the third step, I froze, hoping they hadn’t heard. They continued arguing.

“You need to go. You can’t be here.”

I suspected my sister didn’t realize she was whispering that loud.

“I took care of what you wanted done. Don’t I get a little reward?”

What you wanted done?

“I’m sure Salvatore will be here any minute. He’s not stupid, he knows where she’d run to. Get out of here before he gets here.”

Salvatore was coming?

“I parked a few blocks down. I’ll duck into a room. No worries, babe.”

Was that Dominic? Calling my sister babe?”

Tires screeched to a halt just outside the house. Headlights shone through the windows, and a car door slammed shut.

“Pussy whipped,” the man said just as someone leaned on the doorbell.

I turned and ran into my room, pretending to just come out of it when I saw Izzy run to the door.

“Is that the doorbell?” I asked, not wanting her to know I’d overheard anything.

“Here we go,” Izzy said.

I walked down the stairs. Izzy opened the front door.

A soaked and furious Salvatore stood just on the other side, his gaze fixed on me.

15

Salvatore

“It’s the middle of the night,” Isabella said, standing in the doorway.

I looked over her shoulder and saw Lucia standing on the bottom step of the stairway. “I won’t be long,” I said, my eyes trained on Lucia. “I’m just here to collect what’s mine.” I then turned to Isabella. “Move.”

“No.”

“Move.”

“I’ll call the police.”

“I own the police.”

“It’s okay, Izzy. Let him in.”

Lucia stepped down from the stairs and folded her arms across her chest. She wore a short pink nightshirt that reached to just beneath her ass, and her hair looked like it did when she woke up: a beautiful mess.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Isabella said, although she stepped aside.

Lucia’s eyes were locked on mine.

“Get your things,” I said to her.

“How’s Natalie?”

“Natalie? That’s why you left?” I’d gotten home to find my cell phone in the toilet. Had Natalie sent another text that Lucia had read? My phone was password protected, but the messages flashed and stayed on the screen for long enough that she wouldn’t have needed the password.