Page 98 of Unraveled

Louis’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“The bomb on my car. The murder of my grandfather. This isn’t fucking rocket science.”

“I didn’t do those things.”

“I didn’t say you did them. I want you to tell me what you know about them.”

“Nothing,” Louis said quickly. “I know nothing.”

“I fucking told you not to lie.” Gian sighed, already readying and aiming his gun for Louis’s other kneecap. “You had to make this hard—”

“I’m not lying! I swear, I swear I’m not fucking lying!”

Gian barely held back from plugging the asshole with another bullet. “Why in the hell should I believe you?”

“I’m going to die, anyway,” Louis mumbled, his gaze never leaving the gun in Gian’s hand. “What good does lying do for me now?”

He had a point.

“So you know nothing about those two events,” Gian said, wanting to clarify.

“Because my grandfather didn’t do them,” Louis replied.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I know Edmond said he would have had Corrado shot from behind, so at least the funeral could have been an open casket.”

Gian clenched his teeth so hard at that admission that his molars ached. “Did he now?”

“He didn’t need to kill Corrado. He was already dying.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“I didn’t know—my grandfather did. Edmond told me after. Why kill a man that’s already got one foot in the grave, huh?”

Gian didn’t have the answer for that one.

And he was done with this conversation, now.

Standing, Gian brushed off his pants. Louis looked up at him in enough time to see Gian’s gun pointed directly at his head.

Always look at a man when you take his life.

Corrado’s words echoed in Gian’s mind.

He deserves that respect.

Gian pulled the trigger, and didn’t look away.

Cara woke with a start, jerking upward on the couch at the sound of a door slamming shut somewhere in the penthouse. She scrubbed her eyes with the back of one hand as she went in search of the cause of the noise. Soon, she had narrowed it down to a bathroom, as the sound of water ran heavily behind the door. She assumed it was Gian, because he should have been back by now, and Chris had not followed her into the penthouse when he’d delivered her there earlier.

“Gian?” she called, rapping her knuckles to the white wood.

“Sorry, ma chérie. I didn’t mean to wake you. Head into bed, I’ll be there in a minute.”

She knocked again, instead. “It’s like one in the morning, Gian.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”