Alessio’s face twists slightly. “I don’t like this.”
“Me either, but I have to do what he says,” I remind him. “I work for him.”
“Right,” his face falls and he sets his mug of coffee down. “Not me.”
I immediately pick up on what he’s getting at. “Alessio…”
“Was the other night just about him?” he asks. “Did he…?”
My eyes go wide. “Absolutely not,” I swear to him. “He…he knows nothing about it. In fact, I think if he did, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe that’s what this is about,” Alessio suggests.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so.” Still, now the thought is in my head. What if Eivor knows about what happened between us?
I swallow thickly as I hear a knock at the door.
“I’ll be back,” I promise him. Looking him directly into his eyes and waiting for him to nod before I turn around and head for the door.
It’s going to be a long night. I can already feel it.
Twelve-fifty-two a.m. When I get to the Fiorelli estate, I can’t help but think it feels overly warm and cheery for a place that sees death and the planning of enemy’s demise on a somewhat regular basis. The Christmas decorations are still strewn up around the halls and the scent of cinnamon and apples wafts from several lit candles around the house.
It’s like putting a soft fuzzy blanket over a dead corpse. There’s still a dead guy underneath it. Still blood seeping into the floorboards, and the nasty smell of decay will eventually reach everyone’s noses.
Nevertheless, I head up into Eivor’s office, where it’s dimly lit and he’s sitting behind his desk smoking a cigar.
“Damian, you’re here…finally,” he says and sits up a bit straighter. “I was beginning to think something terrible might have happened to you.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes. As if he would ever actually worry about that. He doesn’t seem the type of man to care.
“I’m here,” I say simply. “What is it you wanted to discuss?”
“Now, now. Have a drink with me first.” He insists upon this, going to the point of pouring me a glass and motioning me to sit down. I scoot the glass further away from me.
“If I’m going to be driving back to the hotel, I’d better not,” I tell him.
He chuckles softly. “We’ll see.”
I watch as he takes several long drags of his cigar, and then a drink before he speaks again.
“Have you come up with any information on Alessio?” he asks me.
My throat tightens. I have had a feeling that this is what he wanted to discuss.
“No,” I tell him. “There hasn’t been much time to acquire information about Mr. Dresvanni given the…circumstances, lately.” I choose my words carefully. I stand in front of his desk with my arms behind my back.
“I see,” Eivor says slowly. He doesn’t sound pleased. “I was worried you’d forgotten about that part of your job.”
I shake my head. “I assure you I haven’t,” I tell him. Though, I don’t think he’d be so pleased if I told him about what I did know about Alessio.
How hard he gets when my hand is wrapped around him. How he sounds when he’s moaning in pleasure… How his mouth tastes.
I have to pull myself back into reality. My entire body is hot and covered in goosebumps.
“You will find more information on Alessio and his family,” Eivor tells me. His tone is clear despite his drinking. He’s still too sober for me to take his words as anything but serious.
“Of course,” I nod my head again. I’m not sure how or when, but I’ll need to find information on the Dresvanni’s soon or he’s going to get impatient with me. I can tell.
