“One of the men,” I said.
He glanced down at the Calibre de Cartier Diver Watch I’d given him. “Too early.”
I shrugged and he sighed, going to get the door. It was one of the men, a foot soldier. Rapid Italian flew from the man’s mouth. A man and a woman were found on the property, both claiming to know me and Brando.
Brando turned to me, his eyebrows raised in question.
I lifted my hands. “How am I supposed to know?”
The foot soldier at the door said something that made me take notice. He described the woman as having blonde hair and the man as having black.
“Different accent,” he said, “for the man.”
“Rainer and the journalist,” I said.
“What journalist?”
“She’s agog about the Fausti family, anxious almost. I caught her creeping around the halls of the palazzo where the gala was held. She ran into Naz, and I could’ve sworn I saw—” I stopped, realizing that two sets of eyes stared at me.
Brando, used to my ramblings, waited patiently. The foot solider seemed a bit unsure. They all were of me.
“Never mind what I saw, but she’s itching for information. Be careful of what you say and do in front of her, though I suspect she’s really looking for Naz.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Brando said, turning to leave with the foot solider. Before he got too far, he stopped. “No wonder you ran into her. Curious minds think alike, ah? Stay put. This won’t take long.”
I doubted that it would. Instead of being curious, I decided to catch up on some sleep. Pregnancy, that small ember, had started to take hold, this early on, and it always made me feel like I slept in the clouds. Floating, soft and warm, but somehow weighted down in this reality, even if it took a little time to come down.
I opened my eyes, blinking in stupefaction, and saw my husband hovering over me, shaking me awake.
“Wha—” I licked my dry lips. “Where did you come from? Heaven?” I snorted, turning on my side, laughing.
Brando turned me over, studying my face, then he came in close and sniffed my mouth. I tried to push him away, but he held steady.
“Did you drink anything?” he asked seriously.
“What! No! Why would I—”
“I’m just checking.” He voice came out mild. “You never know if something could’ve been tampered with. Water?”
“No, I haven’t had anything,” I said, sitting up, swaying a bit. “I’m just tired. You’ve been keeping me up every night.”
He almost laughed. “Have I? Or does it take two to tango?”
I smiled, not conceding the point but knowing he had one. He held out his hand to me and I took it, grateful for the help. He told me that the journalist, Pepper Nash, who was with Rainer,had come looking for Naz.
Pepper and Rainier had been at what I referred to as “Luca’s Ball,” which was presented as a charitable event the powerful Fausti Family was giving in honor of the charities that we—the daughters—had selected. It had been a while since they had one, because it wasn’t truly only about the charities, but about the switching of power.
Brando said that when he walked into the room, Pepper’s face went pale, and she couldn’t speak. Then Luca came in behind him, and they had to help her out. She felt too weak to stand.
“What about Rainer?” I asked, quickly brushing my teeth.
“Tell me about what happened between Naz and this Pepper.”
We both grinned.
I explained to him what I’d seen in that dark corridor. The spark when the two collided. Or was it just a flame from one of the candles coming between the two?
Brando didn’t answer, but it was clear that he believed me. He wondered aloud if what I felt could be seen sometimes—a connection between two people sparking to life?
