Page 81 of Daddies of the Underworld

Dante held out his hand. “Move slowly. Thumb and forefinger only.”

Following Dante’s instructions, she pulled out a folded envelope and held it out to Dante.

Dante opened the envelope and pulled out the paperwork inside, showing it to me. The most interesting thing that I caught right away was the photo of Marco looking older than his file pictures. He was thinner, with a patchy beard, one swollen eye and a split lip. But at least he was alive when this photo was taken.

“When was this taken?” I flipped the picture around, showing it to the woman.

“Eight months ago.” For the first time, she looked genuinely angry instead of frightened. “Viktor does not leave loose ends. Some of us have been waiting for men like you to finally notice the pattern.”

Dante finished going through the envelope and looked over at the woman. “What do you want?”

“I want to disappear. I want enough money to move to a country where I can live in peace.” The look of hope on her face stopped me from telling her that no country like that existed.

“We'll do what we can.” I stood and held out my hand, not expecting her to close the distance to shake it, but she did.

Back at the safe house, Nina met us before we reached the dining room. “Tell me.”

I took off my coat and set the envelope on the table, motioning at it with my hand. “He survived.”

She took the picture out of the envelope and stared at it for several seconds. “He looks awful.” She cupped the picture to her chest and blinked quickly. “Is he alive now?”

Dante walked up behind her and gripped her shoulders. “We don't know yet.”

Matteo pulled a recovery team together within minutes. Men in Italy moved fast anytime, but the put it on high-octane mode when Matteo said he considered it a personal favor.

The waiting was the worst part.

There was nothing else we could do from here. That did not make it any easier.

Sofia woke and came downstairs with her stuffed bunny under one arm and her hair mashed flat on one side of her head. Every adult in the room rearranged their face so quickly we deserved an award. She stopped on the bottom step. “Why are you also weird?”

Nina opened her arms. “Come here.”

I sat on the floor by Nina’s chair because Sofia pointed there and apparently, I took orders from five-year-olds now. She asked for the dragon bakery story, so I gave her a dragon who refused to sell muffins to rude knights and a princess who handled the money because it was her treasure.

Matteo walked to the window and stopped. It was as close to pacing as I had ever seen from him.

If I thought I could get away with it, I would go find the exercise room and work out all my frustrations on the machines. Whether it be running on the treadmill or smashing them with a sledgehammer had yet to be figured out.

By daylight, Nina sat curled in the corner of the couch with one of Sofia's books open in her lap, though she had not turned a page in twenty minutes. Sofia had fallen asleep on the other end, her feet stretched out until they touched Nina’s.

I sat at the table with my hands folded because if I kept clicking a pen, Dante might actually break my fingers.

The secured phone rang, and we all lunged for it. Matteo beat us all by answering the phone on the first vibration. “Report.”

The voice on the other end came through low and rough, carrying static and distance. “We reached the farmhouse.”

Nina stood so fast the book slid to the floor.

Matteo put the phone on speaker and set it in the center of the table.

The recovery team leader breathed hard once, like he had been running, then he said the only thing in the world Nina needed to hear. “Marco is alive.”

29

NINA

Thirty-one hours after the call, they brought my brother to the safe house. We’d discussed it at length, and it was determined that he was better off here, where we could all monitor him than left in Italy with strangers.