"Might I suggest you take the offer you made me down to the street corner. I'm sure you'll find someone willing to help you out."
Leaving her to stew over that, I catch up to Paolo. He shakes his head in mock despair. "Can't we go five minutes without some woman offering herself to you?"
"What can I say? I'm cursed with a pretty face."
As we head back toward the elevator, I sober. "What did you find?"
"Nothing in her room but laptop history showed she was looking at flights to London."
"London? Quite the jetsetter, isn't she?" I get my phone from my pocket and pull up the latest image I have of Eliza. She looks tired in it. Three years of running will do that to a person. "Tell Mason to prepare the jet."
"You're going after her?"
"Yes, I am."
And this time, she won't be getting away.
ONE
Over the past three years I've pictured the moment when I got caught a thousand times.
In my head it was always dramatic. A van would screech to a halt next to me and I'd be bundled into the back by armed thugs. I'd wake in the middle of the night with a stranger's hand over my mouth and a gun to my head as he told me not to scream.
Or, one day I'd be walking down the street and I'd drop dead without ever realizing I'd been shot.
In the six weeks I've been in Edinburgh my dread has intensified. It's the atmosphere here, I guess. The old buildings and cobbled streets in the Grassmarket where I work in a coffee shop feed my apprehension. Something about the city made it feel like the final stop.
Never did I imagine it would be something as simple as a man walking into the coffee shop. He certainly wouldn't have paused to hold the door for a young woman with a toddler.
Nor would he have smiled at her with genuine warmth and ruffled the child's hair. But that's exactly what happens when my pursuer catches up with me. It's strangely anti-climactic and I'm glad of that.
Though I've never met this man before, I know immediately he's a Volante. He's not just a member of the organization, but family. It's not his impressive physique clad in impeccably tailored black suit and crisp white shirt that gives him away.
Nor is it the dark brown hair, cobalt eyes and aquiline nose. It's the way he carries himself as if he's the most important man in the room. Even the way he taps his forefinger as he holds the door open reminds me of Gabriele.
He isn't one of Gabriele's brothers, though. I never met them during our brief relationship, but I saw photos. No, this man is likely a cousin.
He laughs at something the young mother says, closes the door behind her and turns. As his eyes find mine, I squeeze my fingers around the cloth I just wiped the counter with. My heart rate spikes. I thought I'd made peace with this moment but something throws me off balance. I imagined death's stare many times but it was never this intense.
He saunters toward me like he hasn't a care in the world. Men like him rarely do. They have responsibilities, for sure, but they're so used to things going their way they don't need to worry about fulfilling them.
"Double espresso, please." His manners are as flawless as his English. "I'll try the special blend."
"Special blend?" I frown. Is that code for something?
Seeing my confusion, he nods toward the chalkboard behind me. "The Highland roast."
"Oh, yes of course." Heat rises to my cheeks. I've been recommending that coffee to people all week but it went completely out of my mind to offer it to him.
Breathing in deeply, I turn to scoop some ground coffee from the bag into the portafilter.
My movements are mechanical as I make the drink. I've done this thousands of times in the past few years as I've worked in coffee shops around the world.
There was a time when I looked down on people who served drinks for a living but now I know there's an art to it. I've learned to take pride in making the perfect coffee.
The machine has been temperamental today and it hisses at me. But the espresso is perfect and I dare him to tell me otherwise. I bring the espresso over to him and set it on the counter, amazed my hand doesn't shake.
"Aren't you going to ask if I want anything else?" he says as I turn to walk away.
