“Any arrests?”
“Quite a few. Mainly just dockworkers and a few truck drivers on tonight’s shift. I only just managed to escape. Gallo wasn’t so lucky. I imagine they’ll come for the front company managers next. Do you think anyone will talk?”
“Not if they want to keep breathing. We’ll sort it,” I growled, pulling out my phone and sending Gio a coded message to let him know we needed damage control at the station and fast. Luckily, we had enough police officers on payroll that it shouldn’t be too much of a problem to get the men we needed out. “Lie low for a few days, Nico. Head out of the city. We’ll be in touch.”
He nodded, lighting another cigarette, and I made a mental note to revisit his background and connections. Someone must have tipped off thepolizia. It was too random. Climbing back into my car, I headed straight for the jet, feeling all my muscles tense despite Cesare’s magic on them earlier.
My phone pinged with an email as my driver sped us through the streets of Rome. My stress briefly flickered into excitement when I saw it was from the security team at Hotel XO. Opening the video footage first, I watched the guest, Allegra,shuffling in high heels through the lobby with her arms stretched wide towards the revolving doors. A few seconds later, there was my runaway girl. They hugged, and I paused the video to zoom in on her face resting over her friend’s shoulder. Fuck, was she crying? Must have been over that cheating scumbag. I pressed play again and watched the two women interact a little longer, deep in conversation, then head into the hotel bar.
Switching from one video feed to another, I watched as they both had drinks, chatted, and eventually laughed together. When they started on the shots, I raised an eyebrow and checked the time on the feed. Had she been drunk when she came to the spa? I didn’t smell any alcohol on her, but it would explain her endearing clumsiness. I quickly flicked through more footage of them leaving and heading up to Allegra’s room. They both reappeared—my runaway model in a robe and Allegra still fully clothed. They went their separate ways outside the spa.
There wasn’t any more footage. I quickly typed an email back, asking them to call me immediately if she returned over the next few days. I smirked. I had her mother’s necklace. She’d come back.
The moment I stepped through the front door of my childhood mansion in Verona, my chest warmed as I breathed in the nostalgic scent of espresso and almond biscotti wafting from the kitchen and the dried rosemary Mamma had placed in every room. I loved my penthouse apartment in the centre of Rome, but there really wasn’t any place better than home.
The gentle melody of a harp echoed through the grand space, and I smiled as I made my way towards the open glass doors that led into the living room.
Folding my arms, I leaned my shoulder against the door frame and watched my favourite person in the world. My sister, Soraya, was lost in the music she was creating. Her eyes were closed, a long mess of ringlets cascading down her back, and her dainty fingers moved elegantly yet skillfully over the strings. With only two years between us, she was no longer so little at twenty-nine, but she would always be my littlesorellaand my best friend. We drove each other mad because we were so different, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
She was my opposite; docile and calm, unlike my wild and excitable nature. The quiet to my loud. The humble to my cocky. She never judged me and was the only one who could pull me back from my recklessness. I was hot-headed, always had been. I wore my heart on my sleeve and felt everything intensely, while she was observant and guarded. She’d been an elective mute growing up, only speaking to a handful of people she trusted. She still barely spoke to strangers now. Everyonethought it was because she was incredibly shy, but I knew it ran deeper than that. It was about trust and safety.
Our upbringing was… unorthodox. My older siblings were already in their twenties when Raya and I were born. After our father’s death, Mamma’s mental health declined, Elenora escaped to university, and Gio became distant and detached, so it felt like we only had each other.
We lacked stability—always had. Our family loved one another and would die for each other; there was no question about that, but it was never easy. Danger surrounded us. As children, they tried to shield us from the harshness of our world, but the violence, blood, and betrayals couldn’t be hidden. We were forced to grow up faster because of it. I wanted to be part of the chaos. I hated feeling like I was on the outside, helpless. I asked for a gun every year for my birthday from the age of five because I wanted to protect myself and Raya without relying on bodyguards. Gio finally relented and bought me a small pistol when I was ten. I killed my first man at sixteen, when I was nearly taken hostage at gunpoint by the Americans. Raya was content to fade into the background, not to draw attention to herself. In the shadows, she felt safer.
Her hazel eyes snapped open, and the music stopped. A slow, beaming smile spread across her face as she leapt up from her harp.
“Sani!”
I opened my arms, allowing her to bulldoze into them. It had been nearly two weeks since I’d returned to Verona, and although we spoke almost every day on the phone, I’d missed her.
“Working on a new song?”
“Si, do you like it?”
“Your best one yet. One day, you’ll be on the stage of theAuditorium Parco della Musicaplaying to thousands, and I’ll be in the front row boasting that I heard it first.”
She shook her head. “Who are you kidding? You’ve never sat in the front row in your life. You’d be in the VIP box looking down on the civilians, pretending you’re a god.”
“No pretending necessary.”
She snorted as she released my waist and stepped back. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t back until the weekend?”
“Business. Alessio’s on his way.”
“Oh,” she breathed, worry filling her eyes. “That means it must be serious.” Her gaze drifted to my chest, and her fingers reached up, lifting the locket as I looked down at it. She raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Not your usual style.”
“Because it’s not mine. I’m just holding on to it for someone.” She squinted at the cheeky twinkle in my dark eyes.
“Who?”
“My future wife.”
She rolled her eyes.
“In love again? What happened to the gymnast?” She shoved past me, walking out into the foyer as I followed.
“I wasn’t in love, and it turned out she wasn’t the one.”
