Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I think of Belinda’s laugh, about her beautiful fingers making the piano sing. I would trade anything to hear those sounds again.
For an instant I imagine driving away and calling Hawk, telling him to sprint after me, to find the bus, to rip it down and drag Belinda into his arms and make everything okay.
But I know better.
I hold the keys in my hand for an extra second. They feel heavy.
If Belinda gets home safely, nothing else matters. If she’s harmed because I tried to be clever, I’ll never forgive myself.
So I hand him the keys.
Reyes takes them.
I hold back a gag as his fingers graze mine.
He tucks the keys into his pocket, still smiling that stupid crooked smile, and then steps to the side and points to the cellar door. “Down,” he says.
I walk toward it. I don’t cry. I don’t plead. I don’t look back. I won’t give him the satisfaction of watching me unravel.
The cellar steps are steep and smell like damp and old wood.
Before I go down the last stair, I think—oddly—of Hawk telling me he loves me.
I think of myself saying it back.
The basement door closes behind me with a decisive thud.
And everything’s dark.
35
HAWK
Vinnie sits and leans back in his chair, his eyes rimmed red from staring at the screen too long. He looks like hell, his shirt rumpled, his jaw shadowed with stubble.
I lean back in the chair and run a hand down my face. “Jesus Christ.”
Vinnie nods. “Yeah.”
“Her uncle.”
He scrolls through the documents on his screen. “From what I can piece together, Franco was the black sheep. Didn’t want to be part of the family’s business. He simply wanted to cook. Trained in Europe for a while, opened a few restaurants under fake names, but then he fell hard into drugs. Cocaine mostly. His father bailed him out more than once, but he couldn’t stand the embarrassment.”
“So what? Jacinto Jr. put him under house arrest?”
“Something like that,” Vinnie says. “To save face, he made him the family’s chef. He could stay close, work off his debts, and stay clean. Or at least keep his addictions quiet. The family got a personal chef, and Franco got to live.”
I exhale slowly. “Until he met Daniela.”
Vinnie looks at me, and the weight of it settles between us.
“She would’ve been what, fifteen?” he says quietly. “Maybe sixteen. She was interested in cooking, maybe thought it was her way out. Her shot at something clean, something that didn’t involve her father’s filth. But Franco… He saw an opportunity.”
I grit my teeth. “To get back at his brother.”
“Exactly.”
The words hang there, heavy and vile.
Vinnie keeps going, the analytical edge in his tone doing nothing to hide the disgust underneath. “Think about it. He’s been living in Jacinto’s shadow for years, treated like a servant, blamed for everything. Then he sees his brother’s daughter. She’s innocent, beautiful, full of dreams. So he decides to take from Jacinto the only thing that might’ve mattered to him. His heir. His bloodline.”
My stomach twists. “So he used her as revenge. Except Jacinto had already started whoring her out. So was it really revenge?”
“I don’t know,” Vinnie says quietly. “If it began as payback—and I’m not sure it did—along the way, it stopped being about revenge. Franco got obsessed. She was his project. His prize. His leverage. That kind of fixation doesn’t fade. It festers.”
I stand and start pacing. My head is pounding, and my heart is a live wire in my chest. “My God,” I mutter. “And I thought the Bellamys were fucked up.”
That earns the faintest huff of a laugh from Vinnie. “Same,” he says. “I thought my family was the worst. Guess we’ve both got skeletons with pedigree.”
“Yeah, well, our skeletons don’t come with chef’s knives.”
He rubs his temples. “Hawk, listen. This could be good for us.”
I turn on him. “How the hell could this possibly be good?”
He gestures to the screen again. “Because obsession fades when it loses its spark. If the chef started all this to get revenge on Jacinto, then Daniela’s not the point anymore. She’s the shadow of the man he hates. If Jacinto’s gone, maybe there’s still a chance to reason with him.”
“Jacinto’s not gone,” I snap. “He’s too twisted to die that easy.”
Vinnie looks at me evenly. “He’s dead, Hawk. I’m sure of it.”
I shake my head. “You were sure about Vega, too. You saw photos of his corpse, remember?”
“Yeah,” he says, “and I learned my lesson. I checked this one six different ways. I’ve got witness testimony from his staff, video footage…”
I stare at him, trying to find any crack in his certainty. “You’re absolutely sure?”
He nods. “Absolutely. Jacinto Agudelo is dead.”
I sit down slowly, the adrenaline bleeding out of me, leaving only cold dread behind. “So the Chef doesn’t have a brother to get revenge on anymore.”