He seems nervous, which is out of character. Something is up.
“Dimmi?” I ask.
“Tell you what?”
“Why are you so flustered today? I haven’t known you long but you’re not yourself today.”
“Mm, well. I need your absolute trust.”
“Okay,”
“No, it’s not that simple, Valentina. Our lives and the lives of others depend on this.”
“I’m good, I can do this. I mean, we’re going to be married, so bring it.”
I love American movies, and not all their phrases can be translated.
“Bring it. Bring what?” He chuckles, having never heard it used before.
“Tell me. I can handle it,” I plead.
He shifts into a lower gear as we’re driving fast and there is a sharp bend in the road. One mishap and we’re over the side of a rocky mountain.
“You ask who I am, who I work for. I work for my grandfather. He’s in charge of all organized crime in Albania.”
“Ah, that explains the house you live in.”
“Yes, he doesn’t have kids. Something else you should know, I decided to infiltrate the Micheli family a few months ago. One of our important men was breaking rules inside their territory.”
He glances at me to make sure I’m keeping up.
“Got it.” I can’t stop looking at him.
I never want to wake up with anyone other than him. When he looks in my eyes and caresses my body like he adores me, I forgive him for avoiding me in the beginning.
Now that I’m on the verge of getting answers and learning who he is, I’m all ears.
“So, our guy, Argon, was murdered on a ski vacation shortly after I left you in Rome. When Argon died, I suspected the Michelis. They had a motive, but now I know it can’t be them because the same drug was planted on Dante and was used on your father. Plus, why would Dante, who obviously loves Juliet, ruin his own wedding?”
I gasp. “So, this is a bigger issue than just my father. . .”
“Yes, I think so. But who? Both victims are from two different families. I don’t understand it. It’s like a machine is in motion, with many moving parts.”
“Sounds to me like someone didn’t want the wedding to take place. And you had arranged for me to be there?”
“Yes, I thought it would be a special event and you would be my date, so to speak. Your dad wasn’t supposed to attend the actual reception. He was just supposed to deliver you to me, so that means the killer had to know he planned to attend.”
“Yes,” I agree, hanging on to the door handle as we skid around a corner. “So, who knew my dad would be there other than you and, I assume, Savio?”
“The wedding planner, the pilot of the jet, and anyone he may have confided in,” he suggests.
“Papa had a rat in his family? Impossible. I mean, he had cameras and listening devices everywhere.” It’s like he could read everyone’s mind, so he probably had everyone bugged. “That explains how he knew when Laura and I were planning to sneak out on our sleepovers as kids. Papa knew things for sure.”
We make the bend and the map in the car shows we are close to our destination.
“So, how did you get invited to this wedding a second time?”
He smiles. “Double jeopardy.”