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“No,” she says, her voice shaking. Then she whispers, “It's my brother, Torin. Giuseppe.”
Her fucking brother?
My phone buzzes with a text. I finally have service again.
Seamus.
Seamus:
Intel says the Espositos are coming tonight.
Fuck.
“Let's go closer,” I tell her.
“No. My god, my brother's not going to be fooled by this wig.”
“Giuseppe’s back is to us right now. Let’s go hear what they're saying.”
“No.” She clutches me. “If he sees me here, it's all over, Torin.” She's right. Fuck it. “Alright. Go to the ladies' room. Pretend you’re using the restroom and hide in there. I'll walk over and order a drink.” She nods. “Go,” I whisper in her ear. She marches across the floor, head held high, her back to her brother.
I walk in his general direction, keeping my own back to him.
“They haven't found her,” a man is saying to Giuseppe.
“The fuck are you talking about?” Giuseppe's voice is low and dangerous. “We have men combing this country looking for her. Nothing yet.”
“This country,” someone else says in an accent just like mine.
My phone buzzes again. I look at the text quickly.
Seamus
Your contact's wearing a charcoal gray suit, out on the patio. Go to him as soon as you can. He's waiting.
My contact. Declan's contact. Fuck. I want to hear what Esposito says.
“We're not going to stop until we find her,” Giuseppe says, his fingers gripping the stem of his wine glass. “Whoever took her is going to pay.”
“Yet you're here,” a woman with long blonde hair says flatly. “Playing the game, drinking your wine, while your sister's nowhere. They could be assaulting her, Esposito.”
“I know,” he says, his voice going colder. “But there's no place I'd rather be than right here. Because somebody, somebody local, is responsible for this.”
She's right. If her brother sees us together, he’ll assume my family took her, that we had something to do with it, and he'll react before we can ever explain otherwise.
I turn and head for the patio. I need to put some distance between us.
I notice him immediately. Gray suit, gold cuff links, hair slicked back—Declan's man. I start walking over when a hand grabs my arm.
“McCarthy,” a loud voice booms, one of Declan's friends. I could do with about a hundred fewer people knowing my name tonight. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to use my real name.
“Good to see you,” I say, nodding, “but I have somewhere to be.” I raise my hand and go on, but my contact's gone.
Fuck.
Where did he go? I grit my teeth, turn around, and head straight for the loo. I have to find Valentina first.
I see her near the entrance. She stands out, even in the crush of people, the red wig vivid under the chandeliers, that dress doing exactly what it's meant to do. Her eyes find mine, and she crooks a finger at me. I go to her quickly.
