Page 128 of Thin Lives

Giovanni cocked a single brow high, eyeing Calisto from the side. “Care to explain?”

“The only mistresses I ever met of Affonso’s, were ones I needed to keep paid and compliant after they’d birthed him a kid that he didn’t want to take care of. Daughters, I mean.”

“How did Emma know about this one in particular?”

Calisto chuckled, the sound coming out dry and hollow. “Because that’s the kind of man Affonso is—he’s a dirty bastard through and through. He didn’t bother to hide the fact he was having affairs on his wives, and even went as far as letting them know which woman he would be with should they need him. Sandra is one of his long-time goomahs. And if he was going to go anywhere to hide out, he would go to someone he trusted.”

“Sure, it makes sense.”

“I’d say after two decades of fucking around with Sandra, he trusts her. Or he thinks he can. She’s never given him children he didn’t want, she fucks him whenever and however he demands it, she keeps a low profile, and she doesn’t cause him issues. That right there is a woman made in heaven to Affonso Donati.”

“So what about her?” Giovanni asked. “His mistress, I mean. What do you plan on doing with her after this is all said and done?”

Calisto’s fists tightened into hard balls at his sides. He hadn’t given much thought to all of that, but mostly because Sandra was nothing more than a means to an end for both Calisto and Affonso. He certainly didn’t think his uncle loved the woman—Affonso was incapable of loving women the way they deserved. His love was always determined by other factors surrounding the woman like her behavior and how well she could please him. It was a selfish love that wasn’t really love at all.

As for Calisto, he’d do what needed to be done.

“It’s a big building,” he noted more to himself than Giovanni.

“It is,” his friend agreed. “Thirteen floors of souls.”

Finally, the elevator came to a stop at the very top floor, letting the doors open wide. Calisto took a step forward, standing out in the hallway as he held an arm up to stop the doors from closing, but also blocking Giovanni from coming with him.

“You’re going to need help,” Giovanni said.

“Not for this,” Calisto assured smoothly.

He was lying—two guns would be better than one.

Still, there were some things Calisto wanted to keep secret at all costs, and he didn’t know what Affonso might do or say when Calisto went barreling into his mistress’s place with a gun blazing. He certainly didn’t want Affonso spilling more family secrets to outsiders—things like Calisto’s own paternity.

Cross was enough for now.

“Thirteen floors of souls,” Calisto said, looking down the hallway. At one end, an apartment door rested, waiting. It was the one he was looking for. At the other end, another penthouse suite was waiting, but the people inside were not anyone he cared to know. “Think you can get them out?”

Giovanni folded his arms over his chest. “How so?”

“I need ten minutes—fifteen at the most. I’ll be out by then. But he won’t, and neither will she, if she’s in there with him, and I suspect she is. I don’t want him to be found after today—not his body, anyway. Emma needs to be free, and safe. Cross, too.”

His friend didn’t even question him. “I’ll figure something out. Fifteen minutes at the most.”

“At the most,” Calisto echoed.

“You’re safe, right? Just in case?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Gio.”

“Good luck, man.”

Calisto responded to that with a nod, and nothing more. He let the door of the elevator go, watching it close Giovanni behind it. Checking his watch, Calisto noted it was well after one in the morning. Chances were, Affonso and most of the other people in the building were sleeping.

Or maybe Affonso wasn’t. Paranoia could keep a man up for days.

Either way, he wasn’t going to like the wakeup call that was coming for him.

Checking his inner pocket, Calisto found the paperwork he had asked Emma to get secretly drawn up weeks ago. At his back, his gun waited, holstered and safe, for now.

Time to play, he thought.