No matter what, those were the rules.
"I'm sorry," Jordyn muttered, glancing away from Cecelia. "I shouldn't have said that."
"You must think I live a very blissfully ignorant life, darling."
"I didn't say that."
Cecelia smiled sadly. "There was a time when my husband thought pretty, sparkly things would be apology enough for his late nights, locked doors, and distance. That new furs, a fast car, or even a vacation home was the compromise for me turning cheek to the crates in the basement, the gun hidden in my silverware drawer, or the rolls of cash I fished out of his dirty pants pockets.
"They weren't," Cecelia continued quietly. "For a while, Antony forgot I may have knew my place and what was expected of me, but I was far from naive to his business. I knew exactly who he was the moment I met him, and I knew exactly what he was when I married him. The silly man forgot I was more than okay with those things, too. Over time, he's learned his words and honesty will get him much more from me than a diamond ring will."
Jordyn mulled over Cecelia's admission. "Not all are like that, though."
"No. But we're certainly not a special case, either."
"So what do I do the next time?" Jordyn asked.
Cecelia shrugged. "You don't know there will be a next time."
"Yes, I do."
Jordyn was sure of it. Unless the person setting these situations up were caught, it would continue until one of two things happened. Lucian died, or the perpetrator did. How lucky could Lucian be every time? Eventually, the house would win.
Besides that, Jordyn had a feeling this kind of thing was always at the back of a Mafioso's mind.
It was their life, after all.
Cecelia sighed heavily. "I suppose you learn to trust the man you chose. I did."
"They're not finished," Jordyn said after a moment of silence. "Whoever this is … they're not done. If they're willing to shell out two-hundred-fifty grand and then another two-fifty after his burial to guarantee Lucian's death, then who's to say they wouldn't pay more to make sure he was gone the next time?"
Cecelia's mouth opened to speak, but just as fast, she clammed up and her brow furrowed. "How much?"
Jordyn repeated what the attacker has said in the elevator before Lucian kicked him half to death. "Why?"
The usually sunny, happy woman that was Cecelia Marcello turned sickly looking. A shaking hand fluttered up to her mouth as her eyes darted back and forth between Jordyn and a spot on the wall.
"You're positive?" Cecelia asked.
"Yes," Jordyn replied, surprised at her tone.
"I … I have to talk to Antony," Cecelia managed to whisper. "Now."
Jordyn didn't think to tell Cecelia her husband made it clear earlier he wasn't to be interrupted until he asked for someone's presence. In fact, Jordyn followed the trembling woman down the hall and straight inside the office doors Cecelia pushed open without bothering to knock.
Both Dante and Gio glanced up at their mother's sudden appearance from their respective seats in the chairs across from Antony's desk. Antony's piercing, angry gaze flew across the room to his wife immediately.
"I'm busy," he said sharply.
"Antony … " Cecelia struggled with her words, seemingly unable to find the right ones. "I didn't know. She's my … I know she's awful, but I didn't think she would do this. Why would I think for a moment she would use me to hurt him?"
Antony didn't bother to say a thing into the phone pressed to his ear before he clicked the call off and dropped the device to the desk. "Tesoro?"
"I think I did something wrong," Cecelia said.
"Talk to me," Antony demanded harshly. "Use words I can understand."
Jordyn felt all the blood drain from her face as Cecelia blurted out the information no one had been able to find before.
"A couple of months ago, Kate wanted money. It was supposed to be for some offshore investment her financial manager offered to get her in on, but she didn't have the proper accounts or the cash to get her started. I didn't check it out, or think to."
"But you gave her the money," Antony said, his fingers curling around the edge of his desk until his knuckles turned white. "Without asking me at all?"
"I've never needed to discuss my accounts with you before!"
"Because I never had a reason not to trust you!" Antony shouted back. "How much money have you given to her behind my back?"
"This was the first time she asked," Cecelia rushed to say. "That's why I didn't think anything of it. I just had the money transferred from my offshore account into the one she designated. I don't even know if it was hers, now."
Antony released a shuddering exhale. "What aren't you telling me?"
"It was two-hundred-fifty-thousand U.S. dollars. The same amount paid for the hit on Lucian. How likely is that to be coincidental, Antony?"
"How do you know-"
"The hired man told them, and the other half of the payment was to come at least thirty days after burial."
Now, it was Antony's turn to go white. "John's trusts … the clauses and addendums … He didn't know, Cecelia. Lucian didn't know anything about that money because he wasn't supposed to."
"But she did," Cecelia said. "Kate knew, Antony. The entire Will and Testament was read to her at her request before anyone had found Lucian."
Neither Dante nor Gio had spoken during the entire exchange, but they looked like they wanted to. Antony didn't give them the chance.
"Everyone out of my office, now!"
The two brothers were up and going before Antony needed to repeat himself. Jordyn turned to leave, too.
"Not you, Jordyn," Antony practically growled.
"I'm sorry," Cecelia mumbled. "Antony, I'm so sor-"
"I'll kill her," he snarled. "Just like I should have twenty years ago!"
"I didn't think she would hurt him," Cecelia cried.
"Just get out!"
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Where's Jordyn?" Lucian asked the moment he stepped into his father's office.
"I sent her to bed, though I'm sure she's awake and waiting for you." Antony sighed, rubbing at his forehead as he looked over the papers spread across his desk. "She's just about the only person in this house who didn't test my patience tonight. You should be proud."
"Hey, asshole," Paulie barked from the couch. "I've only been here twenty minutes. Give an old friend credit where it's due."
"Then whatever you wanted can wait until morning," Lucian stated, turning to leave.
He wanted Jordyn. Desperately. The injuries to his neck were aching, just like his throat. His muscles screamed in exhaustion and protest. All of the cuts along his knuckles stung to the high heavens. If anything, he needed a hot shower, Jordyn to make him forget about the day, and a long nap.
"No, it can't," Antony muttered unhappily.
"The fucking lawyers took care of it," Lucian snapped impatiently. "Call them."
Antony chewed on the inside of his cheek, an action Lucian was unaccustomed to seeing from his father. It usually signaled his nervousness. "I've been on the phone with more lawyers than I care to talk to tonight, son. That's not what this is. I'm aware the detectives are going to mark it down as self-defence. I'm not concerned. Please sit down and talk to me. When we're done, you can do whatever you want. Go home, stay here. There's church tomorrow, but we certainly don't expect you to go if you're not feeling up to it. It's up to you."
Anxiety slipped through Lucian's veins. "I'm not hiding again."
"You won't have to," Paulie said softly. "Sit and talk to your father, Lucian. This is important."
Lucian wasn't even paying enough attention to notice the meaning behind his father's consigliere's words.
"I really just want Jordyn. Okay?"
"As soon as you let me say what I have to say," Antony responded with a firm tone.
Lucian quickly realized arguing with his father was going to be useless. Frankly, he didn't have the energy for it, either. Still, he refused to sit, leaning back to a wall with crossed arms instead.
Antony took that as his sign to continue. "John considered many paths you might someday take, Lucian. I believe there were certain ones he took that he didn't want you unknowingly following."
"I'm not in the mood to talk about the dead tonight," Lucian said dully. "I've been prepared to leave them where they are for years."
Not considering he had just about become one of them.
"Stop it and listen to me." Antony's glare pinned Lucian in place and kept him quiet. "John's marriage made him openly unhappy, even though it had been arranged years before it finally was seen through and he agreed for the sake of his father. Honestly, I would have been surprised to find out he hadn't had a mistress and a child on the side, rather than finding out he actually did."
Lucian didn't understand where this was going. He heard it all before. "So?"