Page 57 of Dirty Mafia Sinner

I flex my numb fingers.

“The men said it was like being trapped in a goddamn soap opera. She accused Riley of being a coke-snorting opportunist who seduced her boyfriend and mismanaged his finances—and evidently, the drugs we planted at C&C Enterprises belonged to Riley, not Ciro.”

“The police believe it?”

“Not at all. They’ve had eyes on Ciro for a while. But they do want to question them both.”

That’s no surprise. “She’s a liability. I should get rid of her.”

“Whatever you want, boss. But her friend contradicted herself numerous times. Mocked Riley for being weak. Accused her of being antisocial and withdrawn after her father was murdered by his fiancée. Trash-talked her bestie like Riley was her worst enemy.”

I scowl.

“Now ask yourself, is your girl a cokehead seductress heavily involved in drug trafficking or an introverted woman recovering from some disturbing personal shit?”

Riley, with her big, sad eyes.

Riley, wrapped up in a bundle of hurt.

Riley, confessing her darkest secret, about herself and her family.

Not everything was a lie.

Tommaso smirks.

I ignore him because I need answers. “What pet name did he call her?”

“That’s where things get interesting. Emily confessed Riley positively hated the name. Every time he used it, she’d demand an explanation. Neither woman understood what it meant, but Riley believed he was poking fun at her breasts. Triple B, is what he called her.”

I relax. The stupid cazzo would know Riley’s a 32DD if they were fucking. Small frame, enormous knockers. My favorite combination.

Tommaso shakes his head. “The nickname has nothing to do with tits. It’s an acronym … that includes your last name.”

“You’re joking.”

“Wish I were. Triple B means Beautiful Beneventi Bait.”

“You sure?”

“The interrogation was recorded, so you can listen to it yourself.”

I raise the dumbbell, but Tommaso is too quick and grabs it, returning it to the rack before I destroy the place. “Look. It’s what we already suspected. Ciro used Riley—knowingly or not—to get to you. Period. End of story.”

“Interview her best friend again.”

Tommaso arches an eyebrow. “That can be arranged.”

“Personally.” I wait for him to protest. Ready to shut him down.

He just nods with a knowing smile.

“And Riley. You want me to interrogate her too?”

“I’ll handle her.”

I’m tired. So fucking tired. Except tomorrow I’m officially back at work. “Be in my office at one o’clock. Then the games will begin.”

“Get some rest, Sandro,” he says. “You look like hell.”