Page 51 of Tormented Diamonds

My first instinct is to lash out. How could she think I’d be a part of something so vile? But then, something grabs hold of that rage and turns it around.

“Here.” It shouts.“Look.See what she’s saying.”

All that anger fades when I realize her concern isme. Becca confessed her father was complicit in a trafficking ring that held her like a dangled carrot, and the fear in her eyes rests withme.

“No,cara mia.” Glancing over my shoulder, I look into her eyes and leave no room for doubt. “I had no clue my father was trafficking women. But I swear, it stops with me.”

I exit the elevator to find Anton pacing the lobby like an expectant father. He looks up, his face riddled with fresh lines. “How is she?”

“Alive,” I say, motioning to a quiet corner where a lukewarm coffee pot sits daring someone to try theirluck. Grabbing a flimsy paper cup, I fill it to the top. “Unlike the asshole who hit her will be once I get my hands on him.”

“What happened?”

“First, tell me what was important enough to pull me away from her hospital bed.”

“My contact did some more digging and found out Henry’s story goes deeper than we thought.”

That gets my attention.

“How deep?”

“Seems he didn’t become Henry Saddler until age three, when he was adopted.”

Cold coffee sloshes onto my hand as my grip dents the paper cup. “Christ, how many fucking names does this asshole have?”

“I’m guessing three, and the first is locked up somewhere in Brooklyn.”

“So what does this mean for us?”

He shrugs. “Maybe nothing, maybe everything. We have to get those adoption records unsealed, first. They could show Saddler was just another unwanted kid in the system…”

“…or draw a line back to Providence,” I finish.

I’m coming for you, asshole.

He waves his hand. “Forget about that for now. You were saying something about the guy who hit Becca and Leo’s car. Are you telling me she knows the bastard?”

For twenty-two fucking years…

After another look around confirms no one is within earshot, I relay everything Becca told me, watching my same reaction play out across Anton’s face.

“Holy shit,” he says in a low voice.

“Nothing holy about it.”

“This guy has gotten too close, Gianni.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I jab myfinger toward the ceiling. “That’s my wife up there he tried to kill.” I glare at him, Becca’s last question to me taking up space in my head. “You didn’t know, right?”

The familiar wave of anger sweeping across his face gives me my answer. “I’m going to chalk that up to your head not being clear. But for the record, no, I had no clue Marcello was into flesh trade. Not that I’m shocked. He sold Serafina off like she was cattle.”

The way he says that reminds me of his comment atCucciola’s.

“Marcello and Alejandro Carrera are kindred spirits cut from the same putrid cloth. They’d sell their own mothers if it’d turn a profit.”

Fuck me.

“You said your contact found deposits to the shell companies that traced back to the Carrera Cartel?”