He woke up to his phone ringing and jolted in his chair, realizing he’d fallen asleep in his own office. Looking at the clock, he realized it was almost noon.
Immediately, Marco knocked on the window between their offices and captured Bruno’s attention.
His gaze swung up to spot his cousin Marco pull open the door.
Marco halted in the doorway and then, taking one step into the room, closed the door behind him.
As Marco stepped into his office, Bruno narrowed his eyes. Something about the man’s stern, anxious expression set Bruno on edge. “What the fuck’s happened?”
The loud clearing of Marco’s throat told him he had something big to say, and Bruno could feel he wasn’t going to like it.
“Bruno—boss, you’re going to want to take a look at this.”
“Don’t just stand there. Sit down and tell me.”
Marching slowly over to the desk, Marco took his seat opposite the big man and locked onto his cousin’s gaze.
“Well, you got my attention. Go ahead.” Bruno sat back in his chair.
“Last night, I went out to our private warehouse to accept the delivery of another painting you’ve invested in.”
Bruno gave a singular nod. “There a problem with it?”
Marco took a breath. “No. No. The painting was fine. Perfect. The problem is with the others.”
Bruno only stare at him, uncomprehending. “Marco, what the fuck are you talking about?”
Marco studied him for a moment and then decided to tell Bruno the truth. Since there was no easy way to say what needed to be said, he used the shock approach. “They’re gone, Bruno. They’re all fucking gone!”
“What? It must be a mistake?!”
“I’m afraid it isn’t,” Marco said.
“Where did they go? How? Do you know who did it?” Bruno quick fired questions.
Marco made no reply.
Taking a breath, Bruno sat back in his seat, thinking. His lips pulled into a slow, cold grin. “We have CCTV! The thieves don’t stand a chance.”
Marco gave a slow, regretful bow of his head. “Bruno...I’ve already watched the tapes. There’s evidence that it was …Antonio.”
Bruno’s eyes narrowed, his dark brows meeting in the middle to form asone. Marco was accusing his closest friend. “Oh, of course,youwould be the first to suspect that it was Toni who took them.” He shook his head. “And how’d you propose he pulled that off? One man? That’s real fucking believable.”
Marco sighed. “I’m not saying its Antonio for sure but I know what I saw. One man, dressed in black, pulls up in a white van. He climbs up a ladder, and unscrews the air vent from the wall, then removing the vent, he climbed inside.”
Bruno swore. “Air vent? You told me the place was fucking secure!”
“It is secure. No windows and all the doors are alarmed, but the paintings gotta breathe, Bruno. Otherwise, they won’t be worth anything.”
Bruno smashed his fist down onto the table and stood up, towering over his cousin. “Well, they’re not worth a cent to me now! You did this. Not Antonio. This was your negligence; you are liable for what happened to those paintings. And if you think I’m gonna let this slide, you’re mistaken.” Bruno gave him a cold look then turned and walked toward the fireplace, musing over what he’d just been told. Antonio might have known about the money, but surely he’d never take it?
Marco cleared his throat. “You told him, didn’t you? Told him what we were doing, and where we were stashing the paintings.”
Bruno looked at his cousin but didn’t say a word.
Marco shook his head. “I knew it.”
Bruno growled. “Whether I told Antonio or not is no business of yours. But since you’ve interrupted me with your little cock-and-balls theory, here’s what I want to know… why in God’s name would Antonio steal the paintings?” He glared at the man, then turned his gaze to the raging fire.
