CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: WINTER
"Do you have any leads?" Giovanni eyes meet mine the second I enter the dining hall.
I blink, freezing. I don't need to ask him to clarify, I've known this was coming for a few weeks now. Frankly, I'm surprised that it's taken this long for him to question me.
I'm lucky he hasn't questioned me up to this point.
My eyes flit further down the table where Vito is seated. He's relaxed in his seat, one arm on the back of his chair as he stares at me as well. Across from Giovanni, Maximo's feet are propped up on the table. He isn't looking at me like the others, but I can see the way his lips are curled up at the sides in what I'm betting is a wicked smile.
Enzo's big body radiates a heat that enters my body and when he takes a step forward, pressing into me slightly, I finally get my wits about me. I move over to the table, taking the seat between Vito and Giovanni as I try to think over what to say.
The only real lead I have is Amarie and I still haven't come to the conclusion of whether or not I want to throw her under the bus without any real evidence. But what choice do I have with Giovanni glaring at the side of my head and Vito's eyes on me as well. I look up, and this time Maximo is looking at me. His feet are still propped on the table, but he's leaning forward slightly, and his eyes are intense as they meet mine. Like I thought, he's grinning, the malice in it sending a shudder down my spine.
"Winter." Giovanni's voice is full of agitation.
I swallow, turning to look at him. His brown eyes are emotionless and his lips are pulled into a deep frown.
"Do you have any leads?" he repeats.
I glance over at Enzo. He's standing up against the wall now and when his eyes meet mine, they narrow slightly before he gives a nod so small I almost miss it.
Spill.
I inhale a deep breath before nodding my head. "Yes."
Giovanni straightens in his seat slightly. "Well then, what is it?" he asks.
My heart thuds in my chest and my body heats up. "Amarie." I squeak her name out before clearing my throat.
"What about her?"
"I think she's the rat," I tell him, taking another shaky breath. Fuck. "She's always sneaking out of the club and whenever I look for her, I can't find her."
"And that's why you think she's the rat?" he asks, tone dry.
I shake my head. "No, there's more. I... Todd said something about her having a connection to the French mafia and it adds up. She's always wearing expensive designer clothes and her hands are rough, like she's doing more than waitressing. And the other week..." The words catch in my throat.
Everything I've said so far can be written off as a coincidence or not substantial.
"The other week," Giovanni prompts.
You're not a woman who puts another woman's life at risk when she may be innocent. You wouldn't even put another woman's life at risk if she was guilty.
So are you going to start now?
"Winter," Vito says and I feel his fingers brush against my shoulder lightly.
I turn, finding his kind eyes watching me closely. His lips press into a small, encouraging smile. "It's okay, we won't hurt her without finding out more information first." Somehow he knows it's the words I need to hear, and I know it's the reason why I shouldn't talk. He's a master at manipulation with kindness. I've seen it time and time again.
I can't trust him.
But yet, I find my lips falling open. "I overheard a conversation she had with a man in one of the booths." I repeat the conversation I heard and once I've finished, I can't help but to feel icky and guilty.
"Sounds good enough to me," Maximo says. He pulls his feet off the table and rises out of his seat. "I say we bring her in and interrogate her."
If I thought my heart was racing before, it kicks into overdrive now. "Wait, I thought..." I glance back and forward between the men. "You said that you would gather more information first."
Maximo scoffs, peering down at me with a look of disgust. "Vito said that," he clarifies. "And Vito isn't the boss," he reminds me.