I shake my head. “I don’t know. But it’s… well, it’s unsettling because Piero was very determined to keep me away from Santo. He said he didn’t know all of you, but that Santo was a psychopath. He seemed… like he really knew him.”
“I see.” Tavi frowns and flips on his directional. We fly down the ramp as a plane flies right over us. This airport isn’t quite as busy as the airport in Pisa, but it’s a close second. “That’s good intel. Thank you.”
I nod. “I don’t like the thought of Piero being involved in any way with Santo,” I admit, then wish I hadn’t spoken. I don’t want to betray the memory of the only man I ever loved. It feels like the worst form of infidelity. And then it hits me, so hard it hurts.
Piero wasn’t the man I took an oath of fidelity to.
Ottavio Rossi is my husband. He’s the man I’ve vowed to be faithful to.
It’s possible to be faithful to someone you don’t love.
Do I love Tavi?
Did I even know Piero?
It feels like the worst form of betrayal.
I shove the thought away, as fiercely as I’ve pushed aside any painful memory of him. I want to hold onto what I had with Piero. He was my first love. The first one who ever paid attention to me, who cared for me. He risked everything to get me away from the Rossis and in the end, gave up his own life.
“I don’t believe for a minute that Piero was involved with Santo,” I say stubbornly, even as my reason tries to win in the mental battle of logic. “No. He knew him because they served time together. Makes sense to me.”
“Elise,” Tavi says with surprising gentleness. I’d expect that any conversation with Tavi about Piero would make him angry, but he seems to have some thread of sympathy in him anyway.
“What?”
He pulls into a lot I’ve never seen before that he accesses with his keycard.
“Look at me.”
I promised to obey him. I hate that I did, but the Rossi family takes their old-fashioned vows seriously. And I won’t be a person that goes back on her vows.
You vowed to love him.
How can I do such a thing? My heart aches.
“Yes?” My voice sounds aloof, but it’s only masking the raw emotions that threaten to choke me.
“It’s possible for someone to do terrible, even wicked things, and not let it define you. It’s possible to commit terrible crimes, and still love someone.”
I know without him telling me that he isn’t just talking about Piero. He’s talking about himself. Hell, maybe he’s talking about all of them.
“I know,” I say stubbornly. I turn away from him.
“Now listen.” Maybe I imagined any trace of kindness in his voice, because now he’s all business. “We’re heading in there to look for Santo. It’s absolutely crucial that you do what I tell you.”
Of course, all-powerful master. I manage to keep my internal thoughts to myself. I’m smart enough to know it makes sense to do what he says right now. I’m no wallflower, but I’ve never fought anyone. I’ve never beaten anyone up. I’ve never… killed someone. And Tavi may be someone I’ll never forgive, but I’d bet my life he’d protect me.
“Right. I know.”
“Elise.” He grips my elbow. I swivel my gaze to look at him.
“Yes?”
“I mean it.” I hear the steel in his voice, feel it in his touch. “You can hate me, but you’re still my wife. And I’ll still protect you no matter what. Do you understand me?”
I nod. I wish his promise to protect me didn’t melt a sliver of ice around my heart, but it does. It does.
I swallow hard.
Piero died because of this man.
“Where does tracking put him?”
“In the conference room near the private runway we use.”
I nod. Even during the stress of it all, I feel a little like a badass detective chick, and I kinda like that. “Got it. And who do we suspect will be there?”
He scowls. “No fucking idea.” He lifts his jacket and slips his gun out of a harness. Checks the ammunition. Reaches in the glove compartment and takes another, smaller handgun out. “Do you know how to shoot?”
I swallow hard. “I do.” My father would’ve killed me if he knew I practiced, but it was one skill I wanted to have. “And to be honest, I’m a damn good shot. I’ve only ever shot at… at target ranges, though.” Paper. Wood. I’ve never shot through human flesh. My stomach rolls.
He leans over to me, closer, so he can inspect the weapon. He smells so damn good it should be illegal. The heat of his body makes my own skin warm all through.
Why? Why did I let myself fall in love with him?
“You shouldn’t need to shoot at all, and you only shoot in self-protection. Got it? Shooting at the wrong place or time’s like shooting a rabid animal. It will only make them angry and increase the danger you’re in.”
I nod and swallow. “Understood.”
“We find Santo. We neutralize anyone he’s with that could threaten us. Then, we question him.”
“Will we bring him back to America?”
Tavi sighs. “You’ll leave that part to me.”
I’m happy to. I want nothing to do with a psychopathic traitor, and everything’s pointing in that direction.
“We’ll keep the exits in our line of vision at all times. We’re just two people coming to catch a flight, nothing out of the ordinary. Santo likely won’t suspect we’re coming, but if we’re identified by anyone at all, the gig is up.” He blows out a breath. “And I don’t have backup or protection with me.”
For the first time, I realize he’s hunting one of his brotherhood, someone he’s known since childhood. Might as well be his own flesh and blood. That can’t be a nice feeling.
I won’t feel sympathy for him. I won’t.
He reaches in the back of the small car and retrieves a duffel bag. “Here. Put these on.” I look in surprise at a short blonde wig, a soft pink scarf, and a pair of sunglasses. I look inside the bag and see a stack of passports, a thick wad of cash, a variety of wigs, glasses, and even a haircutting kit and some hair dye. It shouldn’t surprise me he’s got an entire bag of tricks to help him go incognito whenever he needs to. And this isn’t even his primary residence.
I duck my head and quickly don the wig, scarf, and glasses, when he hands me a small cosmetic bag. I don’t need instructions for this.
I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. My cheeks are pale, my lips pressed together in a thin line. I look as furious and confused as I feel.
I scowl at the makeup bag, take out a tube of nude-colored lipstick, and slide it on my lips. Seconds later, I look like a totally different person. I look over at Tavi and blink in surprise. His hair’s slicked back, he’s wearing a scali cap, and he’s got glasses now.
“I like you blonde,” he says with a frown. Does he have to say everything with a frown?
I shrug. “You look like a professor.”
I don’t tell him whether or not I like his look.
“Show me how you hold your weapon.”
It’s cramped in the little car, but we’re isolated here. I can’t imagine he’d have us change our identities and check our weapons if there was any security footage here.