Page 7 of Daddies of the Underworld

“Yes, I noticed that too. But I’ve known these men for fifteen years.”

“Why did Dante stare at me?” Holding back the question was about as impossible as holding back a sneeze.

Luca’s lips quirked. “Dante stares at everyone.”

Oh. So it didn’t mean anything. Good. Good. That was what I wanted.

So why did my heart drop like it had experienced a sudden slam of disappointment?

I didn’t know what to do with that, so I looked out over the cove. Another question pushed its way free. “What is this summit? What’s with all the security?”

“It’s a business meeting.” Luca’s tone didn’t change, but his shoulders stiffened. “A large one, with people who have complicated relationships with each other and a lot at stake. That’s why the security is almost excessive and why Rosa told you to forget anything you overhear.” He raised one eyebrow. “She did tell you this, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He took a deep breath, his chin lifting toward the sky. “I’ll walk you back. Your time is almost up.” He kept a casual pace, as unhurried as the gardner. “I did not always have this, you know. In Naples, I was poor. Poorer than poor. This…” He spread his hands. “This is my version of heaven. I’m rather fond of it, as you can imagine.”

“If I could live here forever, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” We continued to chat, with Luca telling me more about his childhood.

He had no qualms about his past, and it warmed me to him even more.

I’d worried that last night was a fluke, but with every sentence out of his mouth, I realized I couldn’t wait to see him again.

He walked me back to the main corridor, peeling off toward the east wing with a grin in my direction. I stood at the junction for a moment, the feeling I had no name for working up the back of my neck and lifting my shoulders like I’d sensed a threat.

It was nearly nine at night when the evening thinned enough that I could breathe again, the guests shuffling off to their rooms or mingling in the common areas.

I slipped into the corridor that ran behind the main dining room to collect a tray of clean glassware, and to take a moment to breathe clean air instead of the buildup of expensive colognes that combined into a noxious aroma.

Voices cut through the air, one speaking Italian in a low tone. Another answered in accented Italian, the consonants flattened in a way I often heard from Eastern European guests.

My steps slowed as the words coalesced. I understood enough in a single step to know I shouldn’t be listening. I also understood enough that I kept standing there anyway.

The Italian voice mentioned a schedule and a window.

The accented voice answered. “There is only one way to ensure the alliance does not survive the week.” His voice was calm. Factual. But I heard a note of satisfaction in there too. “Anyone who attempts to stop it will be eliminated.” The tone dropped to an almost imperceptible level. “... will not survive the summit.”

Footsteps came my way.

Shit. I grasped the tray with both hands and bolted down the corridor, silently thanking Rosa for the non-slip shoes. I turned the corner before the door opened, rushed to the service corridor, and set the tray down on the nearest flat surface.

My heart hammered against my ribs, and I pressed a palm over it while filling my lungs with enough air to puff my cheeks.

I’d just heard a death threat.

Against whom, I had no idea.

But despite everything Rosa told me about forgetting the things I overheard, this was not going to remain on my conscience. I would not stand by while a man was killed.

I had to tell Luca.

3

NINA

Sleep came in bits and pieces. There. Gone. Snatches of moments that left me fatigued and tossing until I gave up and stared at the ceiling. I should keep my mouth shut.

I’d been told to do exactly that. I had a whole list of reasons to keep silent and not stir shit up.