Page 2 of The Enforcer's Revenge

“Brianna?”

Brianna’s breath caught when she turned back to see the two police officers at her door. Somehow, Tony had distracted her to the point that she’d missed them, which was pretty amazing because she was raised to fear the government above all things.

“Yes?” she whispered.

She instinctively turned back to Tony, expecting him to do his enforcer thing and make the danger go away. He just raised surprised eyebrows again, looking like a rock star ready for a cover shoot. He slipped the lip gloss back into the makeup caddy and asked, “What’s going on?”

“And you are?” one of the officers asked.

“One of her best friends.”

Brianna frowned at Tony, first because while she’d known him many years and was currently staying in his apartment, she wouldn’t consider him a friend, let alone a best friend. More than that… he sounded sosassy. Polar opposite from the intimidating, cold and intense enforcer she’d been staying with.

It hit her like a ton of bricks.

He’d seen the cops get here.

The makeup.

The bickering.

He was blending, making himself have a purpose in her Broadway dressing room rather than leaving her alone to face questioning.

Maybe they were friends.

Or maybe his loyalty to Nova extended much further than she anticipated, and he was there to ensure she behaved. Brianna really hoped they were friends, though, because cops made her nervous. It wasn’t the FBI, but it was enough to steal her breath with a rush of blinding fear.

If only Tony’s last name was Moretti instead of De Luca.

She’d feel a little safer.

Brianna was raised to automatically distrust other Borgatas, even Sicilian Borgatas like the De Lucas, but the truth was her own Borgata had turned against her. It’d turned against all of them, even if they were currently pretending it hadn’t.

Carina was in Kentucky.

Tino had disappeared.

There was no one left to truly trust, except Nova.

Perhaps Chuito and Alaine because Tino trusted them.

But it was Tony De Luca who was here now, and she knew she’d have to work with it as she opened the door further.

“Please come in. Is there an issue?” She gave the police officers a wide-eyed look of innocence she imagined young women who hadn’t been raised inside Cosa Nostra would givethem. She tried to look at them as help rather than possible attackers. “Has something happened?”

“Perhaps you should sit down, Mrs. Brennan.” One of the police officers gestured to the couch in her dressing room.

“It’s Ms. Darcy,” she corrected because she’d used the excuse of her stage career to keep her maiden name. Everything legal had Darcy on it, so she had to ask, “How’d you know my husband’s name is Brennan?”

“I’m sorry to say, your husband was involved in an accident.”

She sat numbly on the couch, and Tony sat by her, like the good best friend he was supposed to be. He wrapped one muscular arm around her shoulder and pulled her tightly into the curve of his body.

“He had a flat tire,” the officer went on. “He was changing it when the jack gave out, and the car came down on him.”

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled, not feigning her shock. It was completely genuine. David wouldn’t know how to jack up a car if his life depended on it. He had roadside assistance for a reason. There was no way on earth he would try to change a tire by himself. “What are you saying?”

“We received word he was found in a rural area, known for its spotty phone service. By the time someone found him…” The police officer shook his head. “It was just a very tragic accident, and I’m truly sorry.”