“Have you been snooping through my phone?” My voice rose with the accusation.
It was password protected, but….Oh, shit.
This man knew me. He would have tried a few different number combinations and obviously had found the right one.
My cheeks flamed.
“Don’t mess this up. We’ve got the situation under control,” Vincenzo insisted.
Momentarily ignoring the invasion of privacy, I picked the fight I felt more comfortable winning. “Why the hell not? The Feds can have internationaljurisdiction if they have a case. I’m handing them the war criminal on a silver platter. I found a legal loophole!”
Me. I did that. I found the answer.
“And they’ll take us down with Varga.”
There was a desperate note in his voice. It wasn’t anger, something more gutting. Fear.
Of course, Vincenzo would fear the law. They’d been the only enemy successful at hurting him.
I pursed my lips. “They can help, Enzo. I won’t connect you in any way to the case.”
“Let me lay this out in a way that your puzzle driven brain can understand.” Vincenzo sat up, and the blanket fell away.
My concentration wavered.Good lord, that body.
“Varga is connected with your father. The bastard wasn’t clean about his dealings, and money from both your and your sister’s trusts is included. By extension, that puts Cristiano in the mix—which damns us all.”
“Patricia won’t come after us,” I insisted, tearing my eyes away from that wicked looking torso, decorated with a story written in blood and ink. “She’s a good person and one hell of an agent.”
Vincenzo let out a strangled sound that was part growl and probably part desire to pummel his fist in the wall. “Fine,shemight be. But her boss? Any other hungry vulture in the bureau? Cops aren’t our friends. They have their own agenda, and they use the law to bend civilians to their will.”
He was never going to relent.
And if I was being completely honest, I had my own hesitation about going to my contact.
“It’s not like you’ve given me much choice,” I shot back. “You say you’ll handle it, but Enzo, be honest! I just met you—”
I waved my hand wildly to explain the turn of phrase was metaphorical, covering our years apart. I knew the boy, I didn’t know this man in bed.
Although my body very much wanted to know him better.Muchbetter.
I tried a different tactic. “How do you expect me to just sit around and wait for my fate to be played out? You wouldn’t. You would fight.”
“See…you do know me.” He swung his legs out of the bed.
I stifled a groan as my needy little pussy throbbed.
“You know I’m fighting. You know that my men are fighting.” He rose. If that bulge in his boxers was any indication, he was in the same struggle I was. “It’s being handled, but you should have come to me in the first place.”
We might have made up for that fight. But the hurt was still there.
“I should have,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry we didn’t talk about that. But you haven’t told me your plans.”
Vincenzo prowled forward. I shrank back, hitting the double vanity. He leaned against the doorframe, one arm above his head, and studied me.
“I can help you if I know what is going on,” I pleaded, refusing to look anywhere but his face. “Please, Enzo, it’s driving me crazy.”I am not helpless.
I was not weak.
