There were documents in the briefcase that on the surface looked like sales records for furniture pieces, paintings, and other items a high-end antiques dealer might procure.
I looked up at Niall. “Do you think…”
“That these are records of transfers of people?”
I nodded.
“I’m sure of it. It will take some work to prove it, but I’m sure we can.”
We took pictures of all Orly’s documents, even the ones that didn’t seem relevant, and placed them back exactly as they’d been. When I closed up the briefcase, there was no sign it had ever been touched.
We finished looking over the room but didn’t find anything else that seemed useful. This time, we made it back to our suite with no trouble.
Niall walked straight to the bar, poured himself a glass of whiskey, then turned to me and lifted the bottle.
“Fuck yes. I need one.”
He handed me a glass with a generous measure, and we headed out onto our balcony. For several minutes, neither of us spoke. We just listened to the sounds of the waves hitting the rocks below and sipped our drinks.
Eventually Niall said, “What made you decide to leave?”
“Hmm?”
“Your family. What made you decide to get out from under your uncle’s thumb?”
I took a slow breath and considered how to answer. How much was I willing to reveal to him?
“You don’t have to answer. I…”
“I’ll answer. I’m just thinking.”
“No, it’s fine.” He drained the rest of his drink and stood. I took his arm before he could walk away.
“Sit your ass down.”
He held my gaze for several seconds. “I’m going to get the bottle first.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Actually, it was a terrible idea. We needed to be alert and ready to defend ourselves, but that was apparently another risk we would take.
Niall refilled my glass and his own before sitting back down next to me.
He’d been willing to share the story of his capture with me, so I could talk to him about my shitty family. “When I was sixteen, my father was killed in a shootout. My mom freaked out. She left and took my younger sister and brother, but I didn’t want to go. I had friends in Boston. I wanted to finish high school where I was, but mostly I liked that I had power. I got to scare people, and I could take whatever I wanted. I thought I was in control of my life.”
Niall watched me intently as he took a sip of whiskey. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “I was such an idiot.”
“Aren’t we all at sixteen?”
I figured you were already wearing suits and ordering everyone around.”
He snorted. “I was a fucked-up mess. I finally learned some discipline when I decided I wanted to be a federal agent, but I’ve always like telling people what to do.”
I let my lips curl up in a smile. “Except for those times when you’d rather surrender.”
He waved his hand at me. “Get on with it.”
“I moved in with my uncle, and he started trusting me with more and more. At first, I was cool with that. Mostly I made sure the people under his protection knew who they owed. Occasionally I transported goods for him. None of that bothered me. But the longer I lived with him, the more things I found out that made me uneasy. Maybe it’s better to say I discovered I had a moral code, and he was violating the fuck out of it.”
Marco took a drink before continuing. “Most of the women he brought home left with bruises, and I’m sure some of them were way too young, like not even legal. After I graduated from high school, Damian involved me in areas of the business I didn’t want any part of. When I dared to suggest alternatives, he made sure I was punished for my insubordination. Around the time I turned twenty-one, he put me in charge of drug sales that targeted kids. When the kids couldn’t pay, he hooked them up with one of the pimps he controlled.”
“Fuck.” Niall grimaced.
“I’ve got no problem with consensual sex work. If it were up to me, I’d legalize it and make it safe and accessible, but these kids weren’t willing. They were desperate, and some were underage. Damian wanted me to tell them what their options were to pay us back. The first time I did that, I cried harder than the girl I’d been sent to drag out of her home.”
Niall growled. “If Damian wasn’t already dead, I’d fucking kill him.”
I gave him a weak smile. “I told him I wouldn’t do it anymore. He beat me and said I had one more chance to prove my loyalty or I was a dead man. I packed a few things and left that night. I had little money my uncle didn’t control and no connections after I was disowned, so I lived on the streets until I had a chance to do a favor for one of the Marchesis’ allies. After that, Franco Marchesi, Lucien’s father, started sending work my way. He paid me enough to find a place to live, and once I’d built up my own criminal organization, I had the money to take over the shop. I quickly found a number of regular clients, and that’s how I got to where I am today.”