Page 154 of Fallen Rook

“By design?” I cocked my head.

“Correct.” He slid his rook aggressively toward my queen. “Have you considered, Agent Rothwell, that perhaps upping and leaving is the only option I have left to keep my wife?”

I looked up from the board. He smiled tersely. “Think about it. The Bratva are pissed and seeking revenge. The FBI are closer than ever, breathing down our necks. My wife cannot stay with a member of a hostile organization—not when her firstborn is the next Camorra don, with another Ferrante on the way. She’d have to choose between protecting her children and Jeremie Rasputin.” His smirk faded, a sinister, cold frown taking its place. “She will turn to get help from the only man who’d walk through fire to save her children. Me. Perfect excuse to pack up Sofia, Ciro, and my unborn baby and start fresh far away, don’t you think?”

This, I had not expected. A total and thorough destruction of everything he’d ever worked for to save the one thing no one had anticipated Luca cared for.

I’d studied the Ferrantes for years, and was under the impression that Luca and Sofia were nothing but an arranged marriage, and not a successful one at that. Granted, I’d never looked too closely. Luca just seemed the kind of psychopath to not develop any feelings for anyone. I’d underestimated him.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, eyes still on the chessboard. “‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting,’” he mused.

“Sun Tzu.” I swallowed. “The Art of War.”

He’d fooled us.

He’d fooled all of us into thinking he had no weaknesses, no blind spot, no heart.

“You’d burn your entire kingdom for your wife?” I curved an eyebrow.

“Don’t look so surprised. The fact that you are here tells me you’ll do the same for my baby brother. Love is a terrible disease, Rothwell.” He clucked his tongue. “Terminal, too.”

“You’ll destroy the Camorra?” I refused to believe his words. “Your source of income?”

“I am a wealthy man who can retire today. My money will continue making money for generations to come. I do what I do out of passion, not necessity. And my passions…” He trailed off, producing a cigarette from a soft pack and examining it between his fingers. “The hierarchy has changed in recent months. My wife is at the very top now.”

“She hates you.” It was obvious from my time surveilling his young family.

“That’s an unfortunate truth,” he agreed. “But nothing a few months at an undisclosed location far away from this continent won’t fix.”

“You’re talking to an FBI agent.”

“I’m not.” He lit his cigarette, sitting back leisurely. “I’m talking to my brother’s lover. A man who very much wants to see his sweetheart stick around. I’ve a feeling you’ve come up with an idea to keep all of us here. I’m willing to hear it.”

“It seems like you’ve already made up your mind,” I said.

“No, Tom. Life is like chess. I never quite know what I’ll do until the moment I examine all my options. I just make sure I have plenty of them to choose from. Now go ahead.” He gestured. “Give me your best offer.”

It was my move, so I reached for my knight.

He tsked. “I wouldn’t bother.”

“Why?”

“No matter where you go with this, it’ll be pointless. I’ve already won.”

I stared at the board again. He was right. No matter what piece I moved, it was a matter of when, not if, he’d checkmate me.

I stopped the game clock. Sat back. “The Bratva’s drug shipment. It’s happening next week.”

“I know.” He fanned smoke from his nostrils, tucking his cigarette into the side of his mouth with a squint. “What’s it to you?”

“Slava’s my informant.”

He gave his cigarette a long suck, raising one eyebrow. If he was surprised, he didn’t let it show. As he extinguished the ember of the remainder of his smoke in an ashtray, I wondered if there was a bigger game being played here. Luca did not look like a man digesting new, life-altering information. I was done underestimating him.

He knew.

Somehow, the bastard fucking knew.