She said nothing, yet her quietness indicated her increasing hatred. That was fine by me. She should hate me, a man who’d just stolen her life.
Then I made another call.
Returning to Italy was risky on several levels, but there was a single man who might be able to secure needed answers. Giovanni answered on the first ring.
“Valentin. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“I wish I could say I’m calling to discuss old times, but I need a favor.”
“Just ask,” Giovanni said. I heard age in his voice, but it was still the same deep baritone I remembered.
“A place to stay for a few days and perhaps the use of your contacts.”
“Trouble in paradise?” His laugh forced me to smile.
“Something like that. Is that possible?”
“You are always welcome in my home. I’ll prepare your room.”
“I have a guest.”
“Ah,” he said. “Then I’ll make certain you have everything you need.”
“Grazie.” As soon as I ended the call, she huffed.
“Guest? You mean prisoner,” she snapped.
Before I had a chance to respond, my phone chimed again and I stiffened, answering without bothering to look at the screen. “What?”
“The cops got here too quickly, including a good buddy of yours, Detective Walsh.” Niccolo’s voice was ripe with the same kind of anger I felt.
“I thought you were dead.”
His laugh brought some relief. “I don’t die that easily, brother. You should know that by now. The explosion was nothing but a smokescreen, minimal damage.”
“I took out two in the corridor. Any ID?”
“I didn’t take the time to check, Valentin. I barely had time to handle the necessary cleaning as it was.”
“Meaning the cops were fucking tipped off, brother. They had a call indicating an issue with the club. The place is swarming with the motherfuckers. They even have a goddamn warrant. I certainly hope you aren’t hiding any other unfathomable trinkets.”
Trinkets. It was his way of wrenching the serrated edge deep into my gut regarding Cassidy. My brother handled his love life the way he handled most business operations, taking what he wanted then tossing away the garbage.
Hissing, I shifted my attention in her direction once again, ignoring his ridiculous jab. At least the man was alive. “Authorized by whom?”
“The police commissioner. Brando filled me in. You’re not just playing with fire, bro. You’re prepared to burn down the city by being involved with her. If the commissioner gets wind you took his daughter, we won’t be able to take a shit without them knowing.”
“Then make certain no one fucking talks. And keep your dick in your pants. You handle your life the fucking way you want to but stay out of mine.”
“Whoa. It would seem Brando was right. You do care about her.”
Far too much.
“As I said. Leave it alone.”
“Fine. It’s your funeral.”
While I keep my eyes fixed on the road, I sensed her presence even more as she leaned in, attempting to glean information.