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I was ready to go.
After showering, I texted Sean, Anything?
He replied, Working on it.
I watched some Italian TV until I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to see the guy who had driven me to the cottage.
“I need you to come with me to the house,” he said in Italian.
“Anything wrong?” I asked, a little concerned.
The driver just shrugged.
On the drive to the house, I worried a little about whether Sean had tripped any alarms in trying to figure out who the client was.
Turns out that wasn’t the case.
My client was waiting for me in the foyer. He was wearing a tuxedo – which I took as a sign he’d attended the wedding.
The younger man and woman were nowhere to be seen. I had no idea if they had gone to the wedding, too.
“The timeline has moved up,” my client said. “I need you to do it tomorrow morning.”
“Alright.”
“Good. We’ll provide you with a car with fake plates. If you like, you can practice driving the roads tonight so you can get used to the handling… just in case.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Once the job is done, you cannot come back here. It’s also a bad idea to go to Florence. I suggest you drive to Rome and book a flight from there. We’ll provide you with cash to make the purchase.”
Suddenly, the woman in the glasses walked into the foyer. She wore a beautiful pale pink dress; she must have gone to the wedding, too.
She glanced at me distrustfully, then said to the older man, “I just confirmed it – the bride recognized him from Florence.”
‘Him’ was most likely the younger man – the asshole.
And the bride at the wedding had recognized him.
But what had happened in Florence?
And why was the bride recognizing him enough to order an assassination?
“Thank you,” the older man told her, then turned back to me. “Tomorrow morning it is.”
“Does it have to be completed by a specific time?” I asked.
“No,” he said with a sinister smile. “Just as long as it gets done.”
164
Ifollowed the plan to a ‘T.’
The next morning at 10 AM, I parked at the southernmost section of the ten-foot wall surrounding the property. I accessed it via a dirt road running through a bunch of vineyards.
Once I picked my spot, I turned the car around so it faced the right direction for a quick escape.
Before I got out, I texted my client one last time: Last chance to call it off.
