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Lorenzo doesn’t look away from the road ahead, but the corner of his mouth tilts up. “Please. You’d have to nuke me from orbit.”
I press my lips against his throat. My men are flesh and blood and they could be ripped from me without warning. I don’t want to forget that because I never want to take them for granted.
I sit back and hold Salvatore as tight as I can. “What a crazy night you’ve had. Where are Cassius and Vinicius?”
“Still back at the abandoned building. Lorenzo’s taking us there now.”
“Why?”
“Because we need your help with a ghost.”
4
Cassius
Panicked breathing emanates from inside the kitchen cabinet. I crouch on the dusty floor, resisting the temptation to rip it open, drag the girl out and demand to know why she’s alive.
Why you, and not my sister?
“Nicole De Luca. What happened to you?” I exchange glances with Vinicius, who looks as confused as I feel. It shouldn’t be possible. Nicole De Luca was killed. I saw the pictures. The sadistic, blood-soaked pictures that were the handiwork of the Black Orchid Killer.
“My name is Cassius Ferragamo. Can you come out and talk to me?”
Nothing.
“I’m going to search the area for Mr. De Luca,” Vinicius says softly. “He hasn’t appeared and I’m worried about him.”
Good point. De Luca was supposedly meeting the Black Orchid Killer here tonight, and the four of us planned to kill him. Then his last victim, Nicole De Luca, suddenly appeared, staggering like she’d been drugged. “Who brought you here, Nicole? Did you see his face?”
Vinicius waits to see if she’s going to answer, then checks his gun and heads outside.
I ease myself down on the floor and get comfortable, my back against another one of the cabinet doors. Salvatore and Scava heard from Scava’s men and they’ve gone to collect Chiara from Strife. They’ll be at least another hour or two as they deal with Acid and the others. Anger burns through me at the thought of their filthy fucking hands all over our woman. I’ve met Acid a handful of times and I’ve always hated his swagger. His arrogance. His constant smirking. I hope they kill him slowly.
The floor beneath me is gritty. The pants I’m wearing are Italian wool and my sweater is black cashmere. I’m sitting in an abandoned kitchen in gang territory, trying to coax a frightened girl into talking to me. I could just rip the cabinet door open and drag her out. Scava suggested doing just that when we realized she’d crawled inside to hide, but even his heart wasn’t in it. Nicole’s been in the Black Orchid Killer’s hands. Who knows how much he’s already traumatized her.
I turn my head and ask her, “You went to Saint Osanna Catholic Girl’s school, didn’t you?”
Silence.
“Chiara’s missed you. She’s talked about you often.”
More silence. Maybe she’s passed out.
“I’m from Naples. Do you speak Italian like Chiara?Come è il tuo Italiano?”How is your Italian?
Finally, she speaks in a frightened whisper, “Bene.”Good.
I continue softly in Italian, “I’m pleased to hear it. When you visit Italy, people will be impressed by the American girl who speaks our language so well.”
“Sì,” she replies, and then whimpers, “Are you going to kill me?”
“No one is going to hurt you. I’m here to protect you. Vinicius is just outside and we’re both armed. Whoever took you prisoner can’t get to you now.”
“But you can.”
“You know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who you are. You’re Cassius Ferragamo of the Coldlake Syndicate.”
