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Shoving my phone in my pocket, I started walking away from town. Not a soul was around, no car or motorcycle in sight. The wind and the waves were the only sounds, with a chill that sank into your bones. The brisk temperatures didn’t bother me in the least. I ran every morning on the western side of the island, up in the freezing hills. It cleared my mind and kept me sane.
I headed toward the dock. If I knew Giulio—and I did—he would try to board the first ferry off the island. Or he would bribe a fisherman to take him out on a boat. I had to prevent both.
I didn’t want him to get away.
It took the better part of the day, but I found the three local fishermen and the ferry operator. With a flash of my pistol and some money I had them agreeing to refuse any request from Nick Drakos. Unlike Giulio, I had no need to hide my identity here. So I let them know exactly what would happen to anyone who aided Mr. Drakos off the island.
Satisfied, I headed back to my rooms. Giulio would be armed and waiting for me to show up at his farm, but I wasn’t in the mood. I would deal with him another day.
Maybe Mrs. Campbell would let me watch satellite TV with her over dinner.
When I wasn’t on a job I spent most of my time training and exercising, keeping my skills sharpened. Excluding my run every morning in the mountains, I hadn’t spent much time with my rifle. This would need to change. I would need to learn the wind patterns here.
I already found the perfect vantage point to take out Giulio during my first day on the island, a spot on the outskirts of his farm that would allow me to kill him in a blink. So I needed to start practicing.
The sun was starting to fade as I went up the stairs. I stopped outside my room. The single strand of hair I placed between the door and the doorjamb was still in place, so I unlocked and went in. But as soon as I went in, I felt the change in the surrounding air. Something was off.
Then the faint hint of weed and wool teased my nose.
Giulio.
On instinct I swung my arm out and connected with solid muscle. A gun went off and I felt a burn across my left arm. Then he lunged at me, but I was ready. Though I normally avoided close combat, I remembered how it was done.
I kept my arms close to my frame and used short, powerful strikes toward strategic places on his body. Unfortunately, Giulio was competent, and he blocked most of my attempts while returning a few of his own. Back and forth we punched and twisted, kicked and dodged. Furniture toppled over and a vase crashed to the floor.
He’d been trained well by his father, but he was no match for me, a killer bred by the military. I was barely breathing hard, my heart rate not elevated in the least, and Giulio was panting, using too much energy to fight me. He was starting to tire, his blows not as sharp.
It was only a matter of time.
I landed a jab to his kidney and he stumbled backward. I advanced, sensing his weakness and moving in for the kill. There was no mercy inside me, no restraint. Calm settled inside me. I will finish this.
He tried to dodge me, but I was faster. I had him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. My fingers tightened.
Suddenly, a thumping sound broke through the noise in my head. Someone was pounding on the door. Woman. Gaelic words.
“Are you all right,” she called. “Young man, answer me.”
I blinked as the roaring in my ears eased slightly. Mrs. Campbell.
“I’m fine,” I called back in the same language.
“You owe me for that broken vase,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Just then, Giulio used both hands to push my chest hard, shoving me off him. I let him go and dropped back a step.
“Get off me, stronzo,” Giulio snarled and shouldered me out of the way.
I rolled my neck and leaned my back against the wall, never taking my eyes off the mafia prince. His brow was bleeding, the flesh split open from my knuckles. He was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
He was wary, his expression like a wild animal that had been cornered. “How did you know I was here?”
Did he think I was stupid enough to give away my advantages? I kept quiet.
“Cazzo, you’re like a . . . robot or something,” he grumbled, then winced and touched his side. “If I start pissing blood, I am coming back and torching this entire building.”
“You would kill Mrs. Campbell?”
