Page 11 of Autumn Ritual

Technically, he’d held up his end of the bargain.

I decided to head down to the precinct and work out some of my frustration on the tourist whose brawl interrupted the best night of my life.

***

Excitement surged through my veins. Tonight would more than make up for the abrupt ending to the ball. Before Mass this morning, I called Antonio, forced him to cancel every reservation at the Panifico Bellacosta, and ordered him to create a five-course meal for just the two of us. It cost me a pretty penny, since Antonio was booked solid for the next seven weeks, but he knew what was good for him and did as he was told.

A restaurant to ourselves.

Music. Candles. An intimate setting.

Watching Sara in church this morning, it had been torture not to tell her, yet now the delay was worth it. Grabbing the altered mask, I practically bounced from the driver’s seat, my steps light as I walked to the Caputos’ front door. But something made me stop short. In the haze of anticipation, I missed a clue. There were only two cars in the garage, the door hanging open to reveal the parents were home. But…the driveway was bare.

No matter, my angel was probably out. I would wait.

Positioning the mask on my face, I strode to the front door. I’d taken the time to carve an opening for my mouth, large enough to fit a forkful of food. I had a voice changer, a nifty little tool one of the tech guys created for covert missions. Tonight, I would be able to talk to my girl.

I would woo her before she figured out who I was. Sara would never be with a killer like me otherwise. There was too much blood on my hands. She was pure. She was beautiful. I could only make her fall for me if she didn’t know the real devil behind the mask. Once she gave me her heart, there would be no turning back.

Lifting my fist, I pounded on the door.

A beat of silence pulsed around me. The moment was answered by a cool, northern breeze rushing down the street. Brilliant leaves rustled on their branches, some fell, twisting and tumbling to the earth below.

The wreath made of acorns and oak leaves clattered against the door as it was ripped open.

“Caputo,” I murmured. “I’m here to finish my date.”

Saverio gripped the back of his neck, tugging as he peered up at me through his thick spectacles. “Sara’s gone.”

The world around me froze. The wind didn’t dare finish its waltz with the leaves. The night seemed to shrink back from the storm brewing in my chest.

“Gone?”

Saverio huffed. “She left this morning for our lakeside cabin. A writing retreat!”

The tension ebbed, but only a fraction. “You didn’t think this information was relevant when last we spoke?”

“It slipped my mind!” he snapped. “Her mother and her have been plotting it since she moved back. I’m always the last one to know, but when she didn’t take off right away, I figured she’d abandoned the idea. It wasn’t until she took off this morning after church that I found out how serious she had been!”

Rambling wasn’t going to earn him any points with me. It was fucking adorable when his daughter did it, but this tested my patience.

I gripped the doorframe, fingers turning white. “A writing retreat.”

“Yes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. The gesture was both familiar and wrong. It made me ache for the woman who wasn’t here. “Something about limiting distractions and a fresh setting to get her creative spark ignited. I don’t understand it, signore.”

“That’s because you’ve never created a work of art,” I spat and turned.

It was harsh. It wasn’t the truth. The way he made numbers bend to his will was an artform unto itself. But I wasn’t about to praise him for his loyalty. Not when my mind raced with the news about my girl.

Dropping into my seat, I shot one last look at Saverio. He glared at me, arms crossed, standing on the front stoop as though to stop me, but not knowing how.

I wasn’t going to hurt the old man, and not because he was the best finance guy we’d ever had. He didn’t deserve to be hurt. But it was good to have people fear me.

As long as Sara never fears me.

That was a dash of cold water. My instinct to go to her was tempered by the truth. She wanted space. She thought she was safe out in the country, nestled on the shores of Lake Georgina. My next move needed to be carefully calculated.

Chapter 6 – Sara