Page 18 of The Woman at the Funeral (Costa Family #11)

Blair

“I’m sorry. I think I just hallucinated,” I said, slow blinking at Nico.

We were standing in my kitchen with the island between us, both our cups of coffee set on the surface—still steaming but already forgotten.

The air between us had been crackling with tension since we climbed into the cab.

We’d been painfully silent until the coffee was done brewing.

Then he just blurted it out.

All willy-nilly.

Like it wasn’t completely absurd.

“Because you didn’t just say you’re in the—”

“Mafia,” he cut me off, giving me a nod. “That’s exactly what I said. You didn’t mishear me.”

“The mafia. The mob? Like… Tommy guns and fedoras and cigars…”

“Well, Tommy guns are not really a thing anymore,” he said, eyes warm, lips twitching. “But, yes. Guns and codes of silence and crime.”

“But…”

But what?

But he seemed like such a nice, steady, grounded guy?

Sure, he was nice, steady, grounded, but he also worked odd and inconsistent hours and made a lot of money if he was able to live in this building. He had money to loan for weddings, funerals, and engagement rings. He had a giant family. All of them seemed to know crime statistics and security.

“I honestly thought you knew. Either from Matt or his family or, well, from my name.”

“Your name?”

“Costa. Our name gets tossed in the news cycle every now and again.”

“Wait,” I said, straightening. “Costa. Cosimo Costa? Wasn’t he on trial for murder?” It had been in the news almost nonstop for weeks. I guess I just never connected the name to Nico.

“Yeah. He’s family.”

His family member was a murderer?

I mean, sure, it was a hung jury. But everyone knew Cosimo had committed the murder.

If Cosimo was a murderer, was it possible that Nico was as well?

My stomach twisted as I mentally tallied how many feet I was away from the knife drawer.

But, no.

No, he wasn’t going to hurt me.

He was confessing his truth to me.

He wanted me to know.

He wasn’t going to hurt me for asking questions and drawing conclusions.

“Wait. Did Matthew work for you?”

“No. I mean it,” he said when my disbelief was clear on my face. “It wasn’t for lack of trying on his part. And while capos do have a lot of free will, my boss had put his foot down when it came to Matt. He didn’t think he could be trusted. And, as it turns out, he was right about that.”

“That’s why Matthew’s murder didn’t seem shocking to you.”

“Not to be that guy, Blair, but you didn’t seem shocked by it either.”

“No,” I agreed, sighing. “He’d been strange the few months leading up to our separation. It’s what gave me the final push. I think I would have kept trying to work on it if his behavior hadn’t become so erratic.”

“Erratic how?”

“He would go to bed with me, but I would wake up not long after to find him gone. I would go looking for him, and he would be pacing and talking in hushed tones on the balcony. And he’d hang up the second he saw me.

He would come and go at all hours. He almost looked a little…

crazed. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t even showering much.

I… God, it sounds so pathetic right now. But I thought he might be cheating.”

“Not even Matt would be that stupid.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think either of us actually knew Matthew at all.”

“That’s unfortunately probably true.”

“We need to get into that safe,” I said, kicking off my heels and charging into the spare room.

I’d been left in the dark for too long.

I needed to know all the secrets my husband had been keeping from me.

The safe was where it had been left when the guy had tried to steal it—on its side just outside the spare room closet.

Determination had me dropping down beside it and forcing all my weight into it, straining until I got it to land back on its little metal feet with a loud thud.

“Do you have any idea what he might have used for a code?” Nico asked, crouching down. “Your wedding date, maybe?”

The laugh that escaped me was just a tad more bitter than I liked. “Please. He never remembered our wedding date. Or my birthday.”

“Blair…”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, trying to brush it away.

“It’s not.”

I glanced up, finding myself closer to Nico than I’d realized. Those gorgeous blue eyes. His warmth. The spicy scent of him.

Without warning, desire pinged off each nerve ending.

“Do these things time out?” I asked, my mouth suddenly dry. “Like if I try too many times?”

“Yeah. You probably have three guesses before it will lock up for twenty-four hours. Or for good, without a key. Depends on the model.”

“No pressure, though, right?”

“If it locks down, there are still ways to get it open.”

“Is that super-secret mafia knowledge?” I teased.

His eyes warmed.

“Actually, my old man lost his key to his safe when I was younger. So he had a friend with some safe-cracking skills come over and show him how to open it.”

“How is it done?”

“With a drill and a special bit,” he said, jamming a finger above the number pad. “Drilled right in here. But we have three tries. What do you think Matt would have used?”

“Something that was significant to him. And him only.” I knew I was coming off more and more bitter. But, God, I’d earned it.

“His birthday?” Nico suggested.

“But wouldn’t that be obvious to someone he might have been involved with?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about criminals after brushing shoulders with them my whole life, it’s that most of them aren’t nearly as clever as people think.”

“Alright,” I agreed, plugging in the code. “You can’t be serious.” The keypad flashed green, and there was an audible click.

“This is one of those told-you-so moments,” Nico said, shaking his head like he was disappointed that his old friend had been that clueless.

“I’m almost afraid to see what’s in here,” I admitted, but my hand reached to pull it open, not wanting anything to screw with my chance to get some more answers about my late husband.

“We’re in this together,” Nico said. And his calm, steady presence was enough for me to pull the door open.

I don’t know what I’d been expecting. Money? Guns? Stolen jewelry?

But that wasn’t what was inside.

It was a ton of paperwork.

Almost filled to the top.

I reached out, grabbing the top portion of the stack. There were handwritten notes attached to a picture.

“What is—”

I was cut off when Nico violently snatched the papers from my hands.

“What the fuck ?” he snarled.

The ferocity in his voice had me straightening and inching back slightly.

“You mother fucker ,” he growled as he flipped through the pages.

The first stack fell from his hands as he reached for another.

Whatever he was seeing, it was clearly not good to have a man as controlled as him looking like he was about to burst out of his skin.

I reached for the fallen papers.

I didn’t recognize the man in the picture. He was tall and handsome and holding an infant to his shoulder.

But I didn’t need to know his name. It was written there right at the top of the page.

Lorenzo Costa.

Under that, seemed to be his title: capo-dei-capi .

Even more worrisome was the list of his wife, his kids, their address, their schools, restaurants they ordered from, stores they liked, what their daily schedules looked like.

“Oh my God,” I whispered as I flipped through the pages, seeing in-depth descriptions of each family member. The children included.

“You fucking bastard,” Nico gritted, his hands curling around the stack in his hands. I leaned over, glancing at what he was holding.

There was a picture of him and his siblings. There was Zeno, his hair in a bun. Leo, smirking that wicked smile. With them, another heavily tattooed brother and one who looked annoyed to be there. And, of course, the baby of the family. The little sister.

“Nico,” I said, tone careful.

He was vibrating with rage, his breath coming in short, shallow huffs.

“Years. He’s been building this for years .”

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking at the stack still inside the safe. More family members, I had to conclude. Men, women, children . “But why?”

That was when Nico’s furious gaze cut to mine. His jaw was so tight a muscle ticked before he spoke. “To sell it to the highest bidder.”

“Who would buy it?”

“Our enemies, Blair. People who would use this to pick us off, one by one. It’s all here. Everything they would need.”

Ice slipped into my veins, chilling me enough to shiver.

“What would this be worth?”

To that, he snorted.

“Two-hundred million. More.”

“ What ?”

“That’s what the Family brings in a year. It’s worth at least that if they could pick us all off and take over.”

Oh, my God.

“Do you have a box?”

“A box?” I parroted, confused.

“I need to pack this all up and bring it to Lorenzo. We do,” he clarified.

“We?” I squeaked. “But… but I didn’t know. I wouldn’t help do something that might harm children. I promise, I had no—”

“Hey,” Nico broke in, tone much softer. “I know that, honey. I’m not saying you’re in any kind of trouble. I promise you, you’re not. But I do think you’re in a lot of danger. More than I realized.”

My pulse quickened as I glanced around like someone might be hiding in the corners.

“Oh.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. But until I can talk to my boss, I don’t want to let you out of my sight.”

There was no good reason for the way my heart squeezed at his words. At the fierceness behind them.

“Okay. Yeah, I have a box.”

I got up to grab it.

“Can you pile the papers inside? I am going down to my apartment for one minute.” I must have tensed at that, because he held up his hands. “I’m grabbing a gun. That’s it. Literally less than five minutes. I will be back. You will be behind a locked door.”

“Okay,” I agreed, shaking off the fear. “I’ll be right here.”

“Five minutes,” he assured me, rushing out of the room as I started to stack the files, keeping them in their original order, since I was pretty sure Lorenzo was going to want to see exactly what Matthew had compiled about him and his family.

Once I was done with that, I rushed across the hall, slipping my feet into flats, then making sure I had my phone, a charger, my cards, and a stash of cash.

In case, I dunno, I had to go on the run or something.

I wouldn’t pretend to know anything about how a situation like this would play out. I just knew I liked to be prepared for any eventuality.

If Nico took any longer, I might have started to pack a go bag. But by the time I shoved a small paring knife into it and pulled my bag on my shoulder, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“It’s me,” Nico called, but I checked the camera anyway before unlocking.

“Okay. Brio is going to be out front in seven minutes,” he said, walking over toward the box and lifting it into one hand, leaving his other free to, I assumed, reach for his gun if it was necessary.

“Who is Brio?”

“Someone you want on your side if you’re feeling threatened. You don’t hate dogs, do you?”

“No. I love dogs. Why?”

“Don’t remember the last time I saw Brio without at least one with him.”

“Oh okay. I wouldn’t mind something to cuddle with on the way to… whatever this is going to be.”

“Hey,” Nico said, coming over to me. He reached out and tipped my chin up a little higher. “Nothing is gonna happen to you. Alright?”

“Alright.”

He was a criminal.

A mafia member.

There was no logical reason for me to trust him.

Yet, somehow, I did.