Page 176 of Loyalty

Coraline never questioned Matteo.

She never refused him.

The perfect little mob wife.

Siena found the brownstone was unlocked. She opened the door with a careful hand, not wanting to make more noise than was necessary.

She had no idea what she might walk in to. She didn’t know what to expect just beyond the front door.

Surprisingly, she found the foyer and front hallway empty and dark. Her father’s boots and coat rested in their usual spot, while her mother’s belongings were missing. Further proving her belief that Coraline was not home at all.

Even the kitchen and living room were dark and lifeless. The counters were spotless, and nothing was out of place. It almost made her wonder if her mother had been home at all as it didn’t look like someone had even cooked supper.

Siena didn’t go to the back of the house on the bottom floor because she didn’t hear anything coming from that direction. Nothing was really back there, anyway, and her father always had his meetings in his office upstairs.

Would he kill Johnathan in his home?

Would he risk doing something like that where his wife might come home and see?

A memory stood out to Siena. One deep in the recesses of her mind from when she was just a child. A loud noise had woken her from bed one night when she was barely five, and scared her to death because of the moaning that followed.

The next morning, she remembered watching her mother cover a reddish-brown stain on the living room carpet with another decorative carpet. Before the day was out, the carpet had been ripped up and replaced with hardwood flooring. Any carpets in the home had been replaced as to not have a similar incident occur.

No one ever spoke about it.

No one ever explained what happened.

Siena figured she knew.

And it answered her own question.

Yes, her father would kill here.

No, he would not care.

Siena was on the second floor of the brownstone when she first heard their voices echoing from one floor higher.

Her father.

And John.

“Of course, you can trust me,” her father said. “I wanted you to understand, Johnathan, how they see you. Like the dirty little secret they have to hide. I didn’t hide it. Doesn’t that say you can trust me?”

John’s answering words made her heart miss a beat. “More than them?”

“Far more than them, Johnathan.”

No, he couldn’t.

He couldn’t trust Matteo at all.

Siena picked up the pace, and took the last stairwell two steps at a time. She was sure her footsteps would be heard, but that was exactly what she wanted.

Maybe …

God, maybe, Matteo would not kill in front of her. Maybe her presence would be the one and only saving grace for John.

She didn’t know.