Francesco chuckled darkly as he rubbed his face. “Right, because what we both do isn’t?” He shook his head. “Besides, having allies in different countries is smart.”
“Right,” I scoffed, wondering how a gang could possibly be an asset to an Italian mafia syndicate.
I turned away, feeling a wave of emotion wash over me. I was used to dismissing the pain of leaving my child to fend for herself all these years, because it was the only choice I had. However, the strain of the day and how it had unfolded had left me exhausted. Francesco’s hand fell on my shoulder, and I flinched at his touch.
I closed my eyes, hating what I’d become, cold and unattached. “I wanted this day to go differently, but when I saw a younger version of Piero look at my daughter the way he did, I let my own issues cloud my judgement.”
“Elio is a good man, in spite of what you believe.” He leaned against the railing and folded his arms. “You don’t get to judge someone you don’t know, Elenora.”
My armor shot straight back up. Slowly, I leaned back to use the chair for support as the words leapt from my lips. “How long has my daughter known Elio Capri?”
“Here’s how this will work, Elenora.” He pushed off the railing, and as he towered over me, my men immediately tensed. I had to hold up a hand to stop them. “When I feel you’re ready for the answers, I will give them to you.”
“How is that fair?”
“Nothing about this has been fair.” A moment later, he was gone, leaving me to gnaw on his words.
The pipe above me dripped steadily, forming a muddy puddle by my feet. Rainwater rushed through the grooves of the cobblestone street where I huddled in the protective covering of the alcove. My fingers were still stained with blood from a necessary morning kill, and I noticed little drops of bleach had left their marks on my leather shoes. I grimaced at that, but it reminded me of my small victory. We had a long road to take down the Coppola syndicate, and every death meant we were that much closer to ruling Italy all on our own.
I waited impatiently for Samuele, my informant, to meet me. Both Vinni and Niccola were watching from a safe distance in case he decided to bring company. I checked the time. He was fifteen minutes late, and my anger grew with each passing minute.
We couldn’t afford to lose much more time chasing down where Val was being held. My head still hurt at the thought that Antonio, her uncle, had once been loyal. He was a part of the syndicate. The day he admitted to me that he had flipped on our family because Stefano had taken his niece, I knew the chances of getting her back were slim to none.
Heavy footsteps drew my attention across the street to a window, and I spotted him coming toward me. We had arranged to meet one street over, but because I didn’t trust him, I choose to intercept.
“Whoa!” he shouted as I grabbed him by the jacket and pushed him up against the wall with my arm to his throat. Samuele’s eyes were just as fearful as they were on that day in the maze when I had given him two options. Continue to live as a Coppola soldier and be my informant inside Stefano’s organization…or die.
“You’re late!”
“Our meeting ran late.” He tried to shove me off, but I outweighed him by fifty pounds.
“What did you find out?” I stepped closer, daring him to lie to me, then stepped back and brought my phone to my ear. “Vin,” I said quickly and hung up. A little red laser beam appeared on Samuele’s chest, and he jumped and tried to tuck himself farther into the alcove. “Samuele,” I held my hand up to tell Vinni to back off, “I don’t have much more time or patience for you. Tell me what I want to know or…” I let my words trail off.
“Shit.” He rubbed his head madly, knowing there was no way out. “Fine! She hasn’t been sent out of Tuscany yet—”
“Why is she still being held here?” I had assumed she would be shipped off fairly quickly.
“Stefano knows you’ll come looking for her, so he’s using her as bait to lure you out.”
“Where are they holding her?”
“At the Grand Hotel, where we’re all staying.”
“How many men?”
He hesitated, but when I went to make a move, he sputtered. “Stefano is like you. He appears to be alone, but there are always several watching.”
I loathed that he compared Stefano to me, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it bothered me.
“When is the next shipment of girls going out?”
“There isn’t one yet.” He held up a hand when I started to attack him for lying. “Stefano’s changed. Like a shift in his mood, almost like something is preoccupying him.”
“What is so big that would stop him from doing his shipments?”
“Probably it’s from above.”
“Meaning?”