My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

34

"What about your security cameras?" Luca said, strapping on leather gloves. Following his lead, Josephine found herself looking for corner fulls of them. Instead, she was met with cobwebs spun over cheap paint.

    "There isn't any," Dante said. Josephine didn't say a word. That sounded oddly familiar.

    Luca trailed a finger over a wooden table and then lifted it, promptly inspected the residue. Dust. "And why would that be?"

    "Hugo's orders," Dante replied.

Camillo shut his eyes and groaned. "And why would the person who was murdered ask for no security cameras?"   

Josephine watched, displeased, as Dante pressed his lips together in a flat line. There were no words. He had no answer. And he looked livid.

From the window, Beatriz's reflection was full of longing. Josephine narrowed her gaze on the shadows that crept over her. She's mourning for Hugo. Beatriz folded her hands as she continued to stare at the broken window, her eyes reveling in a plethora of stories. Perhaps the tale of her brother's death. One of Hugo being thrown in, his body slung across the glass in pure agony, another for his hopeless fight. His plea for survival, for life, to be alive and full of light in the world that wanted to silence him... then quiet. The type that loomed over fear and watched with horrid, feverous eyes.

Josephine pursed her lip. She had never experienced death. To her family, greed was their god. They were analytical, always cryptic like dragons who hoarded their gold. But this wasn't an accident. Hugo was murdered. It was planned like how Josephine planned what shoes to wear in the morning.

Though they all acted impassively, there was something more sinister lurking. It was unnerving. Camillo's comments were sly, but they weren't wrong. The lack of security cameras was one thing, and Dante's reasoning was another. There was no reason to remove them, unless, of course, you were planning on hiding something.

    Beatriz turned, and where she went and kneeled made Josephine's stomach heave. She turned her head in any direction to avoid looking at that.

    Camillo strode to join Beatriz with his hands in his pockets, his eyes aline with the massive stain on the floor whereas Hugo's corpse had been. That stain, now faded and a murky copper, spread across the wooden floors. Josephine's disgust rose as her nostrils filled with the metallic smell of blood. Camillo brought his fingers to his chin, then bobbed. "Ah, so he was stabbed."

    Beatriz opened her mouth, then closed it. She rose in silence, and Josephine saw something inside of her untethered, unraveling. She didn't understand why Isla was so worried about Josephine's ability to  aggravate anyone when Camillo was doing such a great job.

    "He was stabbed," Beatriz said testily. Josephine held her breath, fearing she would snap at any time. "Then shot to death."

    "How long was it?" Camillo said unimpressed. "Did he thrash around like a baby or was he a quick and easy shot?"

    Dante took a step forward. There was livid fire in his eyes. She was sure they were all going to burn. "Why are you here, Camillo?" His voice was so calm, so quiet and unnerving. "To gloat? To congratulate me on my new position as heir?"

    "Hey, now," Houston swatted Dante back, pressing on the grooves of his shoulders. "Let's not get too rattled. I'm sure he doesn't mean it."

    "Oh, I do." Camillo grinned, his brown eyes vivid and full of starlight. Houston's glare was from down under. "And to answer you Dante, I'm here for our alliance."

    Dante turned on him."There will be no alliance if we don't figure out who murdered my brother."

    Camillo wiggled a finger. "Ah, don't be cheeky now. That wasn't the deal."