Page 101 of The Butcher's Wife

She knows I’m not Serafina.

I move slowly, like you would in front of a wounded animal. “Valeria…”

She takes me by the shoulders, her gaze flicking back and forth between my eyes. “You aren’t her, aren’t you?”

I close my eyes for a moment. I shake my head.

“Why—”

“I can’t explain right now. I promise you, it’s for a good reason, but I need you to trust me. Please. I promise I’ll explain everything when I can.”

She continues looking between my eyes, her brows pinched together in worry, until she seems to accept what’s happening as she stands tall.

“Okay.” A pause. “Just tell me. Is it because of Dom? Is he hurting you?”

My heart warms and breaks for her at the same time. “Dom is wonderful.”

And the girl with the black eye sighs with relief. “That’s good to hear. He scares me.”

I laugh. “I thinkIscarehim.”

Valeria smiles, then glances behind her. “I think my brother knows, too.”

“If he didn’t before, he does now.”

“Why are you here? Was it really to work on the dinner plans?”

I shake my head. “I can’t tell you why I’m here either. It’s best you don’t know, but I need to know where your dad’s office is.”

I half expect her to object, to rightfully deny my entry into her family’s home. But she only looks behind her again. “You have to be silent or Stefano will come back upstairs.”

I take her hand in mine. “Thank you.”

She grabs my shoulder and pulls me into a quick, fierce, perfect hug. Then she slides the glass door open and points to the room I noted earlier with the wood furniture. I tiptoe across the carpet while she stands guard outside the door.

The inside of Aceto’s office is small and dark, with one lamp lighting up the far corner. Tall, heavy bookcases line one wall, and when I take a step closer to scan the titles, they’re all books about business or ancient Roman history. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes as I creep further inside.

There’s one outlet behind his desk, but it’s too accessible and probably one he uses regularly. There’s got to be an outlet behind one of those bookcases, but they’re so heavy and close to the wall, I don’t think I could fit my arm behind any of them.

A dark brown wine cabinet winks at me from one corner of the room. I creep toward it, crouch down, and peer along the wall. My phone buzzes in my pocket as I spot the glimmer of white plastic behind the cabinet.

I slide my open palm against the wall, feeling blindly for the outlet until my fingertips brush against the open socket. One steady push tells me I won’t be able to move the cabinet,at least not without moving the dozens of alcohol bottles and glass cups on top.

I glance back at the door of the room where Valeria has her gaze fixed on the stairway, her back turned to me.

“Val,” Stefano barks from below, startling me and making my blood run cold. “Bring me the good whiskey!”

“Coming!” she calls back. She approaches me, but pretends she doesn’t see me as she reaches for a bottle of whiskey.

“Hurry,” she whispers and makes her way downstairs with the bottle.

I’m completely exposed without her as I pinch the smart plug between my forefinger and middle finger, guiding it toward the outlet. My phone buzzes again and again against my ass. I just hope it’s not Dom getting home and realizing I’m not there, because whatever he does won’t be good for anyone.

The plug slips from my fingers once, and I swear a blue streak in my head as I search for it among the dust bunnies, capture it, and bring it back up to the outlet.

Bzzz.

Bzzz.