The Arrangement 22 (The Ferro Family) Read Free Page A

a moment. Mel shudders and blinks rapidly, before looking away. Damn, that’s funny. They had a moment. Mel isn’t going to like that.
    I smile to myself and ask Sean, “So what now?”
    Sean is wearing dark jeans with that sexy black sweater that clings to his chest and hugs his arms. Coupled with his scuffed shit-kickers, he looks like a badass. He pushes his hair back as he looks around the room, letting his eyes rest on me. His expression softens. “Now we dig through her stuff and see what we find.”
    “I’ll rummage through the hard drive and see what pops up.” Henry slips into a small chair in front of the computer and starts clicking keys, pulling up files, and rapidly scanning them for information.
    Sean wanders out of the room and down the hall. We come across another old lady sitting room, complete with rose-colored furniture and musty stench. Sean motions for us to head upstairs. When we reach the upper landing, he turns and gestures toward a bedroom door. It’s locked. He pulls out a small device, pushes it in the keyhole, and presses a button. The telltale sound of the bolt scraping open reaches my ears.
    Sean pushes the door slowly and glances inside before freezing in his tracks. He’s holding the door half open, half closed, immobilized. Rage flashes in his eyes only to almost immediately dissipate. The anger on his face morphs into something else, something unrecognizable.
    “Mother?" he asks. "What are you doing here?”

CHAPTER 4
    I step around the door and peer past Sean to see her. Constance Ferro sits disheveled in a scorched red robe. Chains encircle her wrists and ankles, extending to rings bolted into the wall. I can’t process what I’m seeing. She died. Her funeral came and went. Constance is dead. I saw her severed arm. I watched Sean try to save her from the rubble when his home exploded.
    I blink, gaping at her. “What the hell?”
    Constance isn’t herself. She’s pale, weak, and seems equally shocked to see us. “Sean? How did you find me? How’d you know I was alive?” Her voice rasps and is no louder than a whisper.
    He stares at his mother, speechless.
    I walk over to her. “Who did this to you?”
    She arches a brow at me as I study the chain trying to find a way to free her. “You’re still around? Sean, it’s delightful to see your taste in women remains trashy even in the darkest of times.” Her tone lacks its usual bravado, but the old Constance is still in there, brewing beneath the surface.
    “Avery is my fiancée, and you will speak respectfully,” Sean says, his voice monotonous, without a trace of malice or anger.
    Constance laughs lightly as if at afternoon tea. “Be serious, Sean. You can’t marry her. Do you know who her father is?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    She blanches. “Well, then. I suppose if you want to bring more murderers into the world—”
    Sean turns on his heel and leaves the room. His footfalls fade as the shadowed stairwell swallows him whole.
    I glare at Constance like she’s mental. “Do you want us to leave you here?”
    She laughs again like this is some cosmic joke. “You can’t free me. These restraints are mortared into the wall, and the key to the lock is with your charming half-brother. Tell me, did you have a reunion? Were there balloons and cake?”
    I kneel down and get in her face. “No. In fact, Vic already tried to murder Sean and me. The bastard wants to kill me then do unspeakable things to my dead body. So, no, we’re not besties and whatever he did to you—I know he has worse planned. Tell me, Connie, do you want us to leave you here for him? Or do you want to leave?”
    Her aging eyes turn glassy, and she swallows hard. I think she’s going to say something nice, but, instead, she hisses, “You won't get a dime of Ferro money.”
    I don’t respond to the statement. My brows lift and my arms fold over my chest. “Do you want to die here? It looks like Vic Jr. set everything up flawlessly. He likes to torment