He’s leaning against the side of the door with his arms folded and hair drooping slightly wet over his forehead. Like he just got out of the shower.
I wonder for a moment if I had messaged him while he was in the shower and he had to hurry to get here. I find myself imagining him in the shower, dripping wet…
With a shake of my head, I get out of the car and head over to him with the key to the safe house in my pocket. It’s the one I use the most often, so I always have the key on me.
“Get here fast enough?” I ask him.
Tommaso rolls his eyes and steps away from the door. “Just get me inside.”
His words make the back of my neck hot and I try to ignore it. I step ahead of him and unlock the door. I insist on going in first to make sure nothing and no one is hiding in the shadowed corners of the small house.
Everything is in order when I flip on the lights and shove my keys back into my pocket.
“Alright, what’s the gist of it?” Tommaso asks me when he walks in and closes the door behind him.
I turn around and give him an icy look. “No hello, how are you?” I ask him flatly. “You expect the information for nothing in return, do you?”
Tommaso folds his arms and leans against the wall beside the door. I, on the other hand, shove my hands into my jean pockets and feel around for my lighter and pack of smokes.
“I’m not here to mess around,” he tells me. “I need to know what you know, and that’s it.”
I scoff and light up a cigarette, taking a drag of it before I speak again. “In Russia, they would at least offer me a mug of tea.”
“You told me to meet you here. Shouldn’t you be offering me something?” Tommaso raises a brow.
I blow the smoke out between us and he tilts his head to the side. “They’ve been on your ass almost half a year now,” I explain. “They’ve got surveillance set up all around your estate, in almost every room.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.”
I eye him from head to toe, and then turn around motioning him down the hallway and into the living room. I sit down on the scuffed leather couch and flick my ashes into a tray on the coffee table.
Tommaso doesn’t sit down, at least not right away. No, he stays standing nearby, looking incredibly impatient.
“I’m blessing you with this information,” I remind him. “I can just as easily change my mind and walk out of here.”
He smirks at me. “The fact that you think I’d let you just walk outta here is funny.”
“Would you like to test it?” I ask him.
“No. Just gimme the information you have. The good stuff,” he insists.
I take another puff and cross my legs as I think for a moment. “You might be unsurprised to know that Don Bianchi isn’t as faithful as he seems,” he tell him.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“He’s having an affair with some woman from Portugal. He visits her once a month,” I explain. “His wife has no idea. She thinks he’s on genuine business.” I roll my eyes lightly and look up at Tommaso.
“That’s good. We could use that against him. I’m sure he wouldn’t want her to know,” Tommaso nods his head. “Plus, it means his wife likely wouldn’t be the best choice of victim to get back at him.”
“Exactly. If you want to cut him where it hurts, you need Maria,” I say. “His mistress.”
Tommaso walks around the front of the couch to look at me more directly. “What else? You’ve been infiltrating them for several months. You should have more than that.”
I take another drag of my cigarette and flick the ashes again, looking up at him with a bored expression. Frankly, if I could doanything but be here, I would; but I know working with him is for the best.
My eyes catch how strong his biceps and look, and the way his sleeves are rolled up from his forearms and I’m suddenly more interested in our conversation.
“The guards they have following your family are Geoff, Matteo, Elias, and Fiona. Their primary focus is Carmine and Soren, but they keep tabs on all of you depending on the day,” I tell him.
