Page 44 of The Man with a Treasure

I was thankful to be wearing dark sunglasses so my rolling eyes couldn’t be seen.

In the backyard, my father gestured to Mateo, who was at the back door like a nosey weasel, watching and practically slobbering over the money his fiancé would inherit someday.

Being summoned, Mateo straightened his shoulders and walked to them with his head high and smug.

Speaking to him, my father also pointed up. “Mateo, would you be willing to relocate your sleeping quarters for Miss Toscano?”

The weasel replied, “For her? Anything!”

The father boasted, “That’s my boy!”

Giordano kids were playing ball and running around screaming as if they knew no better, but I could still hear Pietro advise, “The wedding coordinator is here,” over my earpiece.

My father spoke into his wrist, “Escort her to the library.”

Cristian and Pietro were handling the front of the property while Sal and I watched over the rear of the lavish home being overrun by the hoity of the toity-est. I had no idea Mateo could get worse, but there he was. And there I was, with a gun, trained to spare my life for his, if needed.

I was thankful Isabella chose not to participate. These people couldn’t measure up to her, even though they considered themselves above her, due to her unwanted past.

From across the yard, Sal approached me. I assumed he was going to warn me that I wasn’t hiding my irritation very well, but his expression was of much concern.

My chest tightened before I quietly asked, “What is it?”

“There is something I haven’t told you.”

My body jolted. He told me everything. “Your mamma?”

He gazed at the ground. “No, she is well.”

“Sal, you are scaring me. What is it?”

Over our earpieces, we heard, “The bride is here.”

Sal tried to explain, “There is nothing you can do, Angelo.”

My ear vibrated with my father’s voice, “Escort the bride to the library.”

“About what?” I asked my best friend.

“She doesn’t want you to save her.”

I grabbed my stomach. Isabella. Is that why the other three brothers weren’t outside? Had Isabella not come down because of them? Were they antagonizing her as they did after the balcony incident?

Sal called out my name as I took off running into the home through the rear door, racing to get to the stairs and find Isabella. I would’ve done anything to protect her, but it wasn’t her that was in trouble. It was the young woman being escorted into the foyer.

Noemi.

Cristian lifted a brow as I skidded to a stop, Sal running into my back.

Noemi was in a spring dress that reached below her knees, and she wore makeup and jewelry and had her hair expertly piled on top of her head. The natural girl I had fallen in love with had been replaced with another rich elite.

No.

I took a step back.

Sal moved with me.

We both just kept backing up, together, yet I felt completely alone. My mind raced back to the last night I saw her. How, once I had finally woken on the river’s edge, Sal’s expression was so stoic it spooked me. Why didn’t I ask more questions? Why didn’t I insist on answers? Those were the questions that would haunt me because Sal knew. He knew and didn’t tell me.