Page 133 of Dirty Mafia Sinner

“I think Alessandro’s keeping a secret from me.” He glances away, and my stomach knots. Still, I press on. “But is he protecting me or making certain I’ll be here when he returns?”

He sips his coffee and contemplates my question. Or rather, contemplates how to answer. “My brother’s married to this life, first and foremost. He won’t leave it—can’t, as the heir. Family first—that’s what we say.”

“So Alessandro will do what, break up with me?”

Renzo gives me a somber look. “Trust me, that’d be the best scenario.”

My heart drops, and the kitchen spins. “I don’t understand.”

“He doesn’t want you to.”

I stand, needing to feel the ground beneath my feet. “So explain it to me.”

For a long while, Renzo stares at me with sad eyes. He reaches into his pocket, places something shiny on the kitchen island, and pushes it toward me.

My eyebrows arch. “A key?”

“Finish the question, Riley.”

“A key to…” It’s then that I glance down. His ankle monitor’s missing.

“They never learn you can’t keep a free spirit caged.”

“Where did you get that?”

He chuckles. “My wallet. I had the key made years ago, yet they always use the same monitors. I smash the device up really good so they think I broke free. Once, I left it locked to really fuck with them, so they’d believe I either broke my ankle escaping it or suddenly became a world-class contortionist.”

My lips part in disbelief.

“Look. You don’t deserve to be caged, either. So here’s what I’m proposing. We crash Don Lucchese’s funeral this afternoon, and you can see for yourself the sacrificial bullshit Alessandro’s agreed to.”

I glance from the key to Renzo.

They say love will set you free. Only they never fell for a twisted control freak like Alessandro Beneventi.

“Good.” Renzo jumps off his stool, takes the key, unlocks and slips off my monitor, and then places it and the key in his pocket. “He took that big goon with him—”

“Tommaso?”

“You met him, of course.”

“Besides Alessandro, he’s the only person I talk to. He’s been nice.”

Renzo jerks back. “Nice? You know he’s Sandro’s enforcer, right?”

I grin. “For the longest time, I thought he was an Uber driver.” If I could bottle up Renzo’s shock, I could cause a small earthquake.

“We need to get moving to make it to Rome in time. We’ll escape separately, and then meet up. Gather your things and in a half hour, be on your balcony and waiting for my signal. Then head down into the cellar. Pass the cell to the wall at the end and feel around for the lever that opens the hidden door leading into the tunnel. It’s unlikely Alessandro’s been down there, and even less likely any of his men have been in the tunnel. To the right on the floor should be the suitcase I placed there a few months ago, after I escaped rehab. Make sure you grab that before you leave. Wait for me at the end of the tunnel.”

My jaw touches the floor by the time he finishes. Because there was so much to absorb in what he’s said.

“A cell?” I manage. A suitcase. A tunnel.

“You think you were vacationing at the Hyatt?”

“How will I avoid the guards?”

He grins like a madman, and my heart hurts. In the moment, I can see so much of Alessandro in him. Cocky. Confident. Bent. “I’ll draw their attention away from you. That I can promise you.” Once again, he pins his gaze on me. “Your choice, Riley. Freedom to decide or blind trust?”