My mind is whirling, going through scenarios of what’s happening to Frankie. I hate not being able to protect her. She should have never been in this situation.
Leaning back in the chair, I roll my neck from side to side. I’m fucking pissed. I’m fucking worried, and I’m fucking tired.
The door finally opens. I don’t bother looking up. I’m not giving them the satisfaction of thinking the waiting is getting to me.
“Your lawyer is here.” Some detective walks in with none other than our family’s criminal defense lawyer. Matteo Valentino.
Matteo sits next to me. He’s the best in the country. When my father put him on retainer before I was even born, he made sure he was licensed to practice in Las Vegas. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s the brother of the current Don of one of New York’s Italian mafia families. If anyone knows how my family works, it’s him. I am curious how he got here so fucking quick, though.
“Remove the cuffs from my client before I claim brutality.”
“He’s being charged with manslaughter. We have reason to keep him cuffed,” the detective says.
“Yeah? Have you charged him yet? Or are you interrogating him?”
“The murder weapon is currently being processed. Are we going to find your prints on it?” the detective asks me.
“Don’t answer that,” Matteo interjects.
“He already admitted to the crime, Mr. Valentino.”
“He was confused, under duress after finding a body bleeding out,” Matteo says, and I can’t help but smirk.
“Mr. Lopez, what were you doing in the lecture hall? You’re not a registered student.”
“Don’t answer that,” Matteo repeats.
I sit and do as I’m told.
This continues for over an hour, when the detective finally gets up, frustration written all over his face, and leaves the room.
“I’ll be right back.” Matteo walks out, then reappears two minutes later. He sits opposite me and looks up at the camera in the corner of the room. When the red light switches off, he looks back down at me. “What the fuck were you thinking admitting to a murder?”
“Where is my girlfriend? You need to make sure she’s okay and get her the fuck out of this station,” I tell him.
“Frankie is with Olivia. She’s fine. They’re questioning her but not charging her. It’s you they’re interested in,” Matteo says. Olivia is his sister-in-law and partner in the firm. She’s just as good an attorney as Matteo is.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes.
“I’m going to need details, Emilio. What happened?”
“I killed him. What more do you need to know?”
“Why?”
“Does it matter? We’re bad guys. It’s what we do. I gave the asshole the severance package he deserved.”
“Not a time for jokes.”
“I wasn’t joking,” I deadpan.
Matteo takes out his phone and makes a call, putting it on speaker. My father’s voice comes through. “Emilio?”
“Yeah, Papa, I’m here.”
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I did the same thing you would have done,” I tell him, without telling him shit. I don’t trust this room, or the fact people are listening, even if they’re not supposed to be.