Page 19 of The Woman at the Funeral (Costa Family #11)

Nico

I’d been coming to terms with Matt not being the friend—or man—that I believed him to be.

But I’d never suspected he’d been actively working against me. Against my family. Watching us, taking notes on us, plotting against us, ready to sell our lives off to the highest bidder.

My stomach was twisted in a knot as I went down to my apartment, my mind racing off in a million directions.

Most of them had to do with how completely and utterly fucked we would all be if this information got out there.

We’d almost just lost all our lives the night that I’d accidentally interrupted a robbery.

I’d made two quick calls as I got my gun and a few extra magazines. To Lorenzo, basically just telling him the shit had hit the fan and we needed a meeting immediately.

Then to Brio, to get a ride.

Because if you wanted protection, the bloodthirsty lunatic was exactly who you wanted there with you.

It was only a short ride to Lorenzo’s brownstone. Once there, there would be guards at the door and then half of the family would descend on the townhouse once they knew what was going on.

“Oh, hi, buddy,” Blair murmured when I pulled open the backseat to reveal a mutt with the head of a pittie but the hair of a shepherd.

“He’s friendly,” Brio called as Blair tried to nudge him in so she could sit down.

“Yes, he is,” Blair agreed as the dog wiggled and licked her face.

Once I closed her in, I climbed in next to Brio, who shared a hard look with me.

We both knew how bad this was.

Even if one of these papers ended up in the wrong hands.

If fucking Matt sold digital versions…

No.

I couldn’t get ahead of myself.

“You smell like coconut,” Blair said, making me glance back to see her rest her head into the dog’s neck. Like she was seeking comfort.

And why wouldn’t she?

She’d not only just found out that I was in the mob, but that her husband was a potential mass murderer. And, of course, that her life was in danger.

Brio and I both had our eyes on a swivel, though we tried not to make it obvious to Blair, who didn’t need any more stress.

“He had a bath at the shelter,” Brio said.

“He lives at the shelter?” Blair asked, sounding suddenly sad.

“I take him for a walk every week with his Adopt Me bandana, hoping someone’ll fall for him.”

“Who wouldn’t fall for you?” she asked, getting another kiss for her words. “Is he coming in?” she asked when Brio pulled up in front of Lorenzo’s brownstone.

“Yep, you got him?” Brio asked. But he didn’t wait for an answer. He climbed out, leaned against the car, and watched the street, sidewalk, and buildings.

Blair got the dog’s leash as I opened the door for her, and the two climbed out onto the sidewalk.

She eyed the guards curiously, but said nothing as I led her up the front steps, Brio close behind us, using his own body as a shield.

“Does he have a name?” she asked when she noticed how close Brio was.

“Yeah. It’s Goya.”

“Goya?” Blair asked, eyes widening as the door opened.

I wasn’t going to ruin her surprise by telling her that he was probably named after the beans, not the artist.

But then Emilio was moving aside to let us in.

“Should I wait out here?” Blair asked, waving to the hallway as Emilio and Brio moved into the dining room where Emilio was already waiting.

“No, Blair,” Lorenzo said, rising and waving toward empty seats at the table. “I think we need to ask you a few questions first.”

“It’s okay,” I told her, pressing a hand to the small of her back.

“Just a couple,” Lorenzo assured her, picking up on her uncertainty.

“We’re just waiting for a few more of the capos to get here,” he told me.

“That way, we only have to go over everything once.” He turned to Blair as she sat next to me, Goya the dog sitting between her and Lorenzo. “You doing okay?” he asked her.

“I… yeah.”

“It’s understandable if you’re not,” he said. “Just making it clear, no one here is blaming you for Matt’s actions. Unless you were the one to write the documents.”

“I can barely read it,” she admitted.

The door opened, and my brothers moved into the house.

“Blair, my favorite coffee syrup creator,” Zeno greeted her.

He’d done his laundry. He had on black jeans and a matching tee.

“Is this your dog? He’s cute as fuck. What’s his name?”

“Goya,” Blair supplied, shoulders loosening at Zen’s trademark ease.

The door was revolving then, bringing in Salvatore, Cosimo, Silvano, Anthony, and Miko. And, finally, Primo Esposito and Renzo Lombardi. Because, despite being members of other families, they were married to women who were in the papers sitting on the table.

Emilio had been steadily pulling apart the stacks, then set them in front of each capo.

“As you can see, we had—for all intents and purposes—a mole. One who’d been close to this Family for decades,” Lorenzo said as everyone started to flip through their papers, everyone getting tenser and tenser.

“Why the fuck is Lore in here?” Renzo erupted as he read his much shorter pile.

“Same reason Isabella and my kids are,” Primo supplied, dark gaze cutting to the fellow boss. “They’re Costas.”

“Not anymore,” Renzo shot back.

“Maybe not. But they can be used against the Costas,” Primo said, sighing. “So when are we killing this motherfucker?” he added.

Blair flinched at that, making Goya whine and me reach out to squeeze her thigh under the table.

“Well, someone else already beat us to it,” Lorenzo supplied. “Matt Ferraro was gunned down a few months back on the street not far from Nico’s place. Nico has been working on it with his brothers, but so far, there hasn’t been any progress.”

“How long has he had this?” Salvatore asked.

“Blair?” Lorenzo piped in, looking over at her.

“I… I don’t know exactly. It was in the storage cage in the basement of my old apartment. I never used the cage. But, I guess, Matthew did.”

“Do you have any idea the last time you saw your storage cage?” I asked, keeping my tone light because she was almost vibrating with tension.

Who could blame her? She knew all these men were part of the mob.

And they were mad enough to want Matt’s head on a platter.

It wasn’t a leap for her to think she could be a target.

She didn’t know us well enough to know that we didn’t kill innocent women.

“Um, I guess… six or eight months before he died. The old occupants had left tools in the cage. And I needed to fix the sink—”

“So on top of being a fucking traitor,” Renzo said, “he was a piece of shit husband too.”

Blair’s color drained a bit, but she pushed on.

“The cage was empty except for two boxes of random junk Matthew must have put there.”

“No safe?” I clarified.

“No safe.”

“That doesn’t mean much, though,” Cosimo said, drawing Blair’s attention. I could see the recognition hit, could see her remembering all the news coverage of his trial. The murder. “Six or eight months is plenty of time to digitize this and put it up in parts or as a whole online somewhere.”

“You’ll get on that?” Lorenzo asked, looking at Zeno.

“Yep. Won’t sleep until I’m sure these files aren’t available to download or up for sale.”

I was worried he meant that literally.

I would have to make sure Leo kept an eye on him.

“Did Matt have a computer? Laptop?”

“Yes. But…”

She turned to look at me.

And I knew what had the lines forming between her brows.

“But the Ferraro family took all of Matt’s shit. Electronics included.”

“Fuck,” someone down the table hissed.

“Get it back,” Lorenzo said, looking at me.

“I will go over there as soon as possible. Then I can have Zen go through it all.”

“The cops have his phone, right?” Lorenzo asked.

“I assume so. It wasn’t on the street. And I was there not long after the shooting.”

“We can see if our contacts can slip it out,” Emilio offered.

“Yeah, you get on that. Alright, Blair. Is there anything else you can think of that was weird about Matt, especially about Nico or his family?”

“Honestly, he didn’t talk about Nico much. Aside from saying he was going to see him or something like that. His family were the ones to gush about Nico.”

“Any chance the family is in on this?” Lorenzo asked, looking at me.

“That’s hard to say. They were all close. But it turns out Matt was really good at keeping secrets.”

“If you could do some careful digging…”

“I’ll give it a go. But they are a close family. If they think I’m implying something, they will close ranks and shut me out.”

“I could get answers out of ‘em,” Brio offered.

“Let’s put a pin in that,” Lorenzo said. But we all knew that, if we couldn’t get anywhere, nothing was off the table when it came to protecting our Family.

“Okay, Blair. One more question for now.”

“Okay.”

“Can we have access to Matt’s phone records? Could you get them for us?”

Blair shifted in her chair, a pink flush creeping across her cheeks.

“No, I can’t do that.”

“Look, we don’t care if you were fucking around on that shithead,” Cosimo said.

“What? No. No, it’s not that. Matthew wasn’t on my phone plan. He was… still on his mom’s plan.”

There were a few snorts and chuckles down the table.

“Sorry,” she said. “I wish I could be more help. But… Matthew and I… we weren’t good for a long time,” she admitted.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Lorenzo assured her. “We’re not blaming you for what he did. We just needed to get as much straight as possible. If you want to head to the back of the house, there’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she said, giving me a nervous look as she rose from her chair and moved out of the room with Goya.

“She can have him,” Brio said once they were gone. “Shelter won’t even make me do any paperwork. Might be good for her to have a dog now.”

I nodded. “I’ll mention it.”

“So, what’s the deal with the widow?” Cosimo asked. “Can we trust her?”

“Trust me, if there is anyone on Earth who isn’t going to defend Matt right now, it’s her.”

“We’re just supposed to take your word for that?” Renzo asked.