He nodded. “This is perfect. Thank you, Angelina.”
The woman switched off the light. Michael went downstairs, and he and Alessandro left.
I had seen enough. Dominic and I crept down the fire escape, but we took longer getting back to our car.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked Dominic after I started the engine.
He nodded. “Looks like they’re going to have someone over to stay in that room.”
“I wonder who that could be.”
“Let’s get back to the estate,” he told me. “I don’t like this at all.”
Chapter14
Ariana
Dante swiveled his laptop toward me so I could see the screen. “Who is this?”
I glanced down at a middle-aged woman with chocolate-brown hair, a heavily lined face, and deep bags under her eyes. “It’s Romola Vittorio… also known as Romola De Leo, third child and only daughter of Michael Vittorio, but she lives in Paloma, Italy, so you said I didn’t need to worry about her.”
“Good.” Dante turned his laptop back toward himself and tapped on it. “Who is this?”
He turned it toward me again. This had been going on all morning, and I was starting to chafe. My mind wandered over to the double doors standing open to the terrace. Sun shone on the flowerbeds, and the tinkle of fountains floated on the breeze.
I wanted to be out there wandering around and enjoying the nice weather, not stuck in here drilling Mafia names and faces, but Dante brought me back to reality by slapping his meaty hand on the table. “Pay attention! I asked you who this is.”
I squinted down at the screen. It showed a nondescript guy of about thirty with mousy brown hair, a brutish, sagging face, and dull, witless eyes. “That’s Riccardo De Pierro.”
“Good.” He turned the computer back around so only he could see it. I found myself gazing toward the terrace again.
The four of us had been unnaturally formal toward each other ever since our trip to Club Veil. The guys had all been polite to me, but they had been even more polite to each other, which surprised me.
Something must have happened between them, but none of them would talk about it. In fact, hardly any of them would talk about anything at all.
They didn’t talk about me doing it with Dominic. They didn’t talk about me kissing Dante at the bar. They just avoided talking about any of it like they wanted to pretend none of it ever happened.
“Who is this?” Dante asked.
I sighed and looked down at the screen. It showed a youngish guy in his mid-twenties with dark hair, deep, dark eyes, and a hawkish expression. I had never seen him before. I would definitely have remembered him if Dante had ever shown him to me before.
I furrowed my brow. “I don’t know. You’ve never shown him to me before.”
“Look again. Do you recognize him?”
“He looks familiar, but you’ve never shown me this picture before.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I don’t know him.”
“You should recognize him. He’s Enzo Concordio. He’s Quintino Concordio’s brother.”
“How am I supposed to recognize him if you’ve never shown me his picture before?”
“Because he looks exactly like Quintino. You’ve seen pictures of Quintino Concordio. You should have picked up on the connection.”
“Are they twins?” I asked.