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Sure enough, when I follow Tommy’s sugar baby to a boutique downtown, she meets with a handsome Italian man her age, and kisses him like she’ll never get enough.

I wait until he leaves and I approach her. "Does Tommy know about this?" I ask.

Fear fills her eyes, but she doesn’t give anything away. She stays carefully detached. "I don’t speak English," she says, in bad Italian.

I answer in my own mediocre Italian. "Do you call him your boyfriend or your sugar daddy?"

"I don’t know who you mean," she says, trailing off.

"You have no reason to trust me. I understand. But I’m not a friend of his. Quite the contrary."

"CIA?" she asks.

I suppose my accent is too American. I shake my head. "A private contractor.”

That doesn’t answer her question. Confusion streaks her pretty face. Fear stays in her eyes.

"I’m on the other side of the law," I explain. Not that I could compete with the CIA’s rap sheet. That would be a thousand kilometers long.

"I don’t know his business," she says.

"I’ll make it worth your while.” I pull a thick envelope from my purse. A few thousand dollars in twenties.

She puts her hand on the crisp white envelope, but she doesn’t take it yet. "What do you need?" Her eyes fix on the bills. She needs the money. Why else would she be with him?

"Access. The rest I can handle."

"And after?" she asks, carefully ending her sentence there. She raises a brow and returns her attention to the bills.

Oh, I see. She’s not worried about him. She’s asking what it’s worth to me, since it’ll cut off her income stream.

She’s a businesswoman. I admire that. I’m always letting my creative instincts run the show.

Matteo doesn’t see that. He thinks I’m like her. That I’m only after victory.

I can use that.

“I can send work your way,” I say. “If you’re open to what happens after.” I could sneak in there and kill him myself, sure, but I try to help other women when I can.

"What kind of work?”

“What you do now. Only for people who might meet unfortunate ends after.”

“And Leo? He won’t be a part of this…” Genuine fear fills her pretty eyes. “Tommy can die, and I won’t care. I have no fondness for him. But Leo—” she places her hand on her breastbone—"He’s my heart."

My thoughts go to all that pain in Matteo’s dark eyes. After I broke his heart. Then the strange mix of glee and rage when he met me in Paris to throw me in jail.

He wants revenge.

That’s how I entice him. I give him the chance to catch me. I lead him straight to my next victim. "When do you see Tommy next?" I ask.

"Tonight."

"Has he ever asked for a threesome?"

She laughs. "Of course. Why?" Then she pauses, piecing it together. Her brows lift. "You? Really?" Incredulity sharpens her voice.

I raise an eyebrow. "Am I not pretty enough?"