A Billion Decisions: The Rosetti Crime Family, #6

By Jessa York

Eve

 

Who Exactly did I marry?

When I finally discover the answer to that question--my world is tilted on its side.

Again.

This is not the life I signed up for.

And I have no intention of sticking around.

However, my husband has no intention of ever letting me go.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessa York
• Release date: Dec 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201231125

Book preview

1

Eve

The lamp dimly lit the interior of the drawer in the filing cabinet.

Even with the low light, the outline of three guns was hard to miss.

Guns.

Nick needed multiple guns? Why?

I’d never heard him talk about guns. He never told me there were any in the house.

I knew I should close the drawer, and forget I’d ever opened it.

Go back upstairs, slide into bed beside my new husband—and go to sleep.

But something wouldn’t let me stop.

I’d gone this far, I needed to see if there was anything else in here.

Carefully, I removed the firearms and set them on the desk. I didn’t know one thing about seeing if the safety was on or not.

I was fairly certain they wouldn’t suddenly discharge unless someone pulled the trigger.

Which I also had no intention of doing.

Once the guns were out, I saw a small, purple, velvet bag. I slowly picked it up, and set it in the palm of my hand. When I rolled it around, it felt like tiny rocks.

Far too curious, I undid the golden strings that held it closed, and peeked in. I gasped at what I saw. Dozens and dozens of diamonds.

I gazed down at my rings and realized they looked identical to those.

Apparently, Nick hadn’t bought my set from a jewelry store.

I couldn’t help myself, and tipped the bag over, dumping some of the huge, sparkling diamonds into the palm of my hand.

There were so many.

It was unbelievable.

Where could they all have come from?

I wanted to empty the entire bag out on Nick’s desk and look at them—but I didn’t think I should press my luck. So far, I hadn’t heard a noise in the rest of the house.

And I needed it to stay that way.

I poured the brilliant stones back into the soft bag and tied it up. Then I looked back into the drawer.

A couple stacks of what looked like—passports?—were bound with a wide elastic. Man, there must’ve been at least twenty in each.

I removed the elastic, and opened the first one.

It was Nick’s photo.

But, it was not Nick’s name.

I frowned at it and read it over and over again.

Then I opened up the next passport.

And the next.

My stomach knotted, making me feel sick.

All of these passports had Nick’s photo—but not his name.

I swallowed back the bile that had risen in my throat.

Why would Nick need so many alternate identities?

I bound them all, and picked up the next stack.

What the— I whispered into the dark, silent room. When I opened the first one. It was my picture—but not my name.

My fingers traced over the smooth paper, wondering why Nick had done this. I quickly opened the rest, and they were all the same.

My photo.

Different names.

Many, many, different names.

I fit the elastic back over the stack and set them on top of the filing cabinet with the other passports.

Next, I pulled out papers and moved them directly under the lamp so I could see. From what I could tell, they looked like overseas bank accounts—with each containing more zeros tacked onto the end than I could count.

All this money—from what?

And why did he want to hide it?

After I laid the papers down, I continued digging. I found several cell phones. And some burner phones. A few that were still in their packages.

The only people I knew who used these were drug dealers.

And criminals.

My parents—and brother—carried one from time to time. Usually when they were up to no good, working for unsavory types for an extra buck.

And my husband had not one—but an entire collection of them.

My head swam with what all of this meant.

But none of the explanations I came up with were good.

I pushed the phones toward the back of the cabinet, then I fingered through the actual file folders.

Until I stopped dead on one titled, Ilona’s.

I inhaled sharply while my brain added yet another puzzle piece to this mystery.

One that I didn’t want to solve.

One that—deep inside—I already knew the answer to.

My shaky fingers pulled the file out, and I opened it in my hands. Adjusting the lamp again, I started reading.

And what I read blew me over.

Literally.

I had to sit down in Nick’s big, leather chair.

Nick owned Ilona’s.

Ilona’s was his.

Which meant Nick hadn’t only been my client.

He’d also been my pimp.

I found it difficult to catch my breath.

I closed my eyes, and held the folder to my chest.

You didn’t need to be a genius to see what all of this was adding up to. My heart actually broke as I thought about the lies Nick had told me over the course of our relationship.

I’d seen enough.

But I hadn’t seen everything.

And I knew—I absolutely knew—I had to see everything.

I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to stand up, but I did it. And I pulled out a few more files.

I had to know it all.

The next file held Nick’s birth certificate.

My eyes scanned the information.

I hadn’t seen it before, so I read it over a few times before I moved it forward to peek at the paper behind it.

Another birth certificate.

Maxim Castaneda.

Castaneda.

That name sounded familiar.

Castaneda.

Castaneda.

I said his name over and over again in my head, hoping to jog something in my mind. Nothing came to me yet.

I skimmed over the information, wondering why Nick would have some stranger’s birth certificate in his files.

Then, my eyes froze on one word.

Well, two.

Lorenzo Rosetti.

I quickly paged back to Nick’s birth certificate.

They shared the same father.

Not the same mothers.

Why would Nick not tell me he had a sibling?

A half sibling, but still.

He’d told me he was an only child.

Why would he lie about having a brother?

Castaneda.

Castaneda.

Then it finally hit me.

I’d heard Asher and my dad talk about him a few times in hushed tones. He was one of the big crime bosses in the city.

Or had been, until he’d been forced out for some reason.

I remember dad complaining about that whole takeover because he’d lost some important work contacts and job opportunities because of it.

Honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention.

I never had the desire to join any kind of illegal activities that my parents or Asher were involved in.

I was no angel.

And I did what I had to do.

But seeking out crap like this—and getting involved in that lifestyle—had never appealed.

Entangling myself with Ilona’s was really the first outright, illegal thing I’d ever done.

And doing that had taken me weeks of indecision before finally taking the plunge.

There were other documents in that file. Nothing I could easily decipher.

Land title papers, a few other things.

I decided to stick it to the back of what I’d picked up, and go to the next file titled—

Louise.

My heart sank to my stomach.

Then my stomach sank to the floor.

Nick had a file on Louise? Why?

I quickly flipped it open, and the first picture stunned me.

Louise standing with a man.

She was wearing a white dress.

He had on a white dress shirt.

They both wore huge smiles.

Probably because they’d just gotten married.

Louise held a bouquet of white roses, and showed off her enormous ring for the camera.

They looked so happy.

They were both tanned, but he—her husband—was darker. His features were strong, and that glint in his eye was oddly familiar.

So was that confident, cocky expression.

The couple in front of me were glowing.

Ecstatically happy after their nuptials.

But I more than remembered everything Louise had said about her nasty, horrible husband.

And I knew the drop-dead, handsome man beside her was not what he seemed in this picture.

He would change.

Show his true colors.

I flipped to the next pictures, and couldn’t help but smile.

Louise looked insanely hot in her bikinis that barely held in her fabulous figure.

They were on a beach somewhere. I could make out a few signs in the backgrounds, but everything was in Spanish.

Hmm, maybe they were in Mexico.

More fun, joyful pics.

Until one shocked the crap out of me.

It was a closeup of Louise.

Black and blue.

And red.

Oh my gosh, he’d done that to her.

I knew it.

I felt it.

Picture after picture of her hurt in some way.

Welts, bruises.

Broken bones.

It made me so incredibly sad to see these.

Even still, I couldn’t stop looking at them.

When I got to the end, there was one small, tiny paper. I nearly missed it. I picked it up between my thumb and index finger, bringing it up for a closer look.

A marriage license.

Louise’s full name was on there.

And so was Maxim Castaneda’s.

What the fuck? I said into the dark, quiet room. I read and reread the certificate over and over and over again.

It couldn’t be right.

Louise?

Married to a crime boss?

"What the