This is one area I don't want to get into. "It only matters what Blackwood thought, and he believed she was in danger."
"That doesn't make sense," Olivia mutters. "Why would he put an informant at risk like that?"
"Because he doesn't care about his informants. Just ask Ernie. Lucky for Isabella, Roman is a sucker for family. They actually fell in love."
“How nice for her.” Olivia’s words have a bite to them. Like she doesn’t believe me.
“You’ve met her. Does she look unhappy?”
“I don’t know her, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Moving on. "Then there's Gabriella Monti. Blackwood approached her with 'evidence' that Marco Calabresi was planning to take over her father's territory. It wasn't true. Marco was actually trying to protect Antonio because he was showing early signs of dementia."
Olivia's face pales slightly. "How do you know all this?"
I roll my eyes. "La Corona doesn't keep secrets." Well not normally. I'm keeping a huge one by not telling them I have Olivia and am working with her.
But that's not because I won't tell them.
It's just that I haven't had time yet.
"We talk to each other. That's how La Corona works. We compare notes." I pause. "Blackwood even went after my cousin Elena, trying to get information about me and Luca."
I hesitate before adding the final piece. "Sometimes he even sent you to make the approach, didn't he? You approached Isabella and Elena."
Her eyes snap to mine. "You still think I'm a part of this?"
I study her hoping I can gauge the truth in her eyes. "I think you might be a pawn. He's been using all of us, Olivia. Including you. The question is, what's his endgame? Because I don't think it's justice. Why does he have such a hardon for us?"
"You're organized crime?—"
"So he kidnaps a child?"
She shakes her head. "I've seen nothing to suggest he was behind that."
I jab my finger on the photo of the FBI car that took Rocco.
"Blackwood didn't check it out though."
I laugh. "Well, he wouldn't, would he? Didn’t you say someone who was dying is registered to the car? A car that had your plate? Who has the ability to do that? Could you?"
“No.” Her sigh of resignation tells me Blackwood would have the sort of tech access needed to manipulate data.
“Who called you about Rocco?"
"I don't know. The caller was blocked."
"But this," I tap the photo of the car with Rocco's head in the window at a stoplight just after it left the Winter Festival. "This suggests one of yours. Whoever called you about Rocco knew where he was because he took him."
She scrapes her hands over her face and then sighs. I sit back when I see the toll this is taking on her.
She looks utterly defeated.
Like everything she knew about the world has been turned upside down.
Emotions wash over her face. Disbelief, anger, betrayal.
"Hey," I say. "I know this is a lot."
