Page 40 of Laced With Secrets

Dominic’s gray eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in a sardonic half-smile. “Sounds like they’re having a philosophical debate about color theory.”

“Penny takes his colors very seriously,” I replied.

We entered to find Blake and Penny in the dining area, surrounded by takeout containers from what looked like at least three different restaurants. Penny was gesticulating wildly with a spring roll while Blake calmly plated various dishes with his usual methodical precision.

“Ah! There you are!” Penny bounced over, his cotton-candy scent bright with happiness. “Perfect timing! Blake ordered enough food to feed a small army because apparently he ‘wasn’t sure what everyone would want’ which is code for ‘I’m bad at human emotions so I’ll just buy everything.’”

“I’m efficient,” Blake corrected mildly, not looking up from his task. “There’s a difference.”

“You bought pad thai, drunken noodles, massaman curry, AND panang curry,” Penny pointed out. “That’s not efficient, that’s overkill.”

“And yet you’re eating the spring rolls from all four orders,” Blake observed with the faintest hint of amusement.

Penny grinned, unrepentant. “Because they’re delicious and you bought twenty of them.”

The domestic scene was so normal, so cheerful, that it felt surreal given what Dominic and I had just learned. I must have made some sound because Blake’s sharp blue eyes cut to me immediately, his expression shifting from mild amusement to assessment in an instant.

“What happened?” he asked, his tone still casual but his posture subtly changing—shoulders squaring, attention focusing.

“We talked to Margie Patterson,” Dominic said, moving to help Blake with the food. “She worked as a nurse in the seventies and knew Thomas personally. Got a lot of information about his last few weeks.”

“And?” Blake prompted, handing me a plate that he’d already filled with things he knew I could stomach—plain rice, mild curry, nothing too spicy.

The casual thoughtfulness made my throat tight. Blake might claim to be bad at emotions, but he’d been paying attention to my needs for weeks.

I accepted the plate and we settled around the table—Blake at the head, Penny to his right, me across from Penny, and Dominic beside me with his hand finding my thigh under the table.

My gaze swept the room. “Where’s Jake?”

“In our room,” Penny said. “He’s polishing an application for that new restaurant opening up downtown. Said he’d join us the moment he hits submit.”

“I hope he lands it,” I said, fingers absently tracing the edge of my plate.

“So, what did the nurse have to say?” Blake asked, biting into a spring roll.

I started explaining everything Margie had told us, with Dominic filling in details I missed. Blake listened with absolute focus, eating methodically while his sharp mind clearly processed and categorized every piece of information.

Penny’s eyes got progressively wider as I described Constance Whitmore’s threats and her husband’s alleged inappropriate behavior.

Then I got to Vicente Antonelli.

“Vicente was the general contractor for the Historical District preservation projects in 1973,” I said. “He would have had access to every construction site, including the pharmacy where Thomas was buried. And Margie said everyone knew he had mob connections even back then.”

“That sounds ominous,” Penny said.

Blake set down his fork. His expression didn’t change—he didn’t look afraid or even surprised. Just… considering.

“We already knew Vicente Antonelli was connected to Jake’s situation through the Boston restaurant,” he said. “But this?—”

“This means he’s potentially been eliminating threats to his operations for over fifty years,” Dominic’s tone was almost clinical, but his hand tightened on my thigh.

“I know about Jake and the Boston mob stuff,” Penny said, looking between the three of us, “but how dangerous is this guy exactly?”

“Very.” Blake pulled out his phone. “I have an extensive file on him from the Vertex deal research. He’s careful, smart, and extremely well-connected—judges, politicians, law enforcement, business leaders. Anyone who’s gotten too close to damaging information about his operations tends to have accidents of some kind.”

“And not always fatal—he’s too smart for that—but enough to ensure he gets the message across without implicating himself.” Dominic added.

The casual way he said it made my stomach drop.