“Think a little harder,Nipote.” Niece.
My head still hurts to think much more than I already am. It’s ringing likeCampanile di San Marco—the most famous bell tower in Venice.
“Zia, you know I feel like death warmed over right now. Your men drugged me and knocked me around.”
“You were never a biter as a child. You shouldn’t have started now.”
“You shouldn’t have kidnapped me. What is going on?”
There’s not an ounce of remorse or regret in her expression. It’s not precisely glee, but she appears pleased that she’s making me jump through hoops. I’m not her husband; I won’t play her games. If Alejandro wants to question her, he can. I opt for silence again as I feel around for any part of the rope and begin plucking. I look straight ahead, but I still observe Alejandro from the corner of my eye.
He doesn’t appear perturbed in the least. Just the opposite. It’s like he’s watching family sitting around on Christmas morning. His shoulders are down, and his head’s slightly tilted to the left. He’s amused.
If I weren’t sure it was a ploy, I’d be annoyed.
“You know me, but I have no idea who you are beyond being Vittoria’s aunt.”
Not quite dismissive, but unimpressed. He’s striking at her vanity. He’d better watch out before she strikes out in irritation. She’s the one with claws. Her perfectly manicured nails could gouge a chunk of skin. I’ve seen how she peels oranges.
“Cosima Contarini.”
“It’s certainly a displeasure to meet you.”
I want to cringe, but myziachuckles—like a James Bond villain. Who the fuck is this woman? I don’t recognize her. She’s a grade school teacher for fuck’s sake. She teaches the equivalent of American third grade. Kids are the only people she likes and the only ones who seem to like her. Is she some secret operative more undercover than me? Or is this something deeply personal that she’s taken upon herself? I just can’t wrap my head around any of this.
“You’re nearly as charming as your uncle.”
“Which one? I’ve been told they’re both silver foxes.”
This time, her laugh is less sinister. Not what I’m used to, but it’s not freezing the blood in my veins.
“Either. Both.”
“Are you waiting for one of them to show up?”
“Hardly. They don’t know where you are.”
“Is this about me or your niece?”
His tone hardens when he mentions me. He can tolerate the threat to himself, but he won’t put up with anyone—let alone family—targeting me. It nearly makes me laugh to consider howprotective he is of me considering I have a body count higher than most war veteran snipers.
It’s sweet.
“Both.”
“Because Vittoria hasn’t killed me or because we’re involved.”
“Fucking. That certainly hasn’t endeared her to her employer since she’s never crossed that line before. Her employer’s generally patient, but that ended.”
Alejandro probably has far more to say, but like me, he seems disinclined to play twenty questions. He turns his head just enough to look past her. I’m accustomed to long hours of silence as I scout and stake out my targets. His dossier told me he often does the same on missions in Latin America.
He’s his uncle’s fixer. Luis visits the prisons and handles the cartel and gang members who step out of line in their prison industry. Alejandro handles the more refined negotiations, but he rolls up his sleeves whenever needed.
Myziasteps in front of me, attempting to force me to look at her. I may as well have x-ray vision because I look nowhere but at her midsection. She tsks as though I’m an obstinate child—which I absolutely was. Drove my parents crazy. She was one of the few people who could negotiate me into compromises. It won’t work today.
“Vittoria, finish the job right now. I have a jet waiting to take us home.”
If she gives me a weapon, I’ll kill her before I do Alejandro.
