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Four
Farrell scanned the courtyard,marking the security measures while Nico poured them both drinks. Nico was no less careful with security for Angel and Stella than Farrell was for Jenna and Lily, and Farrell spotted five guards between the roof and the courtyard, plus two cameras mounted on the trees that surrounded thepatio.
It wasn’t quite the contingent Farrell had surrounding the houses in Tuscany and London, but he had no doubt it was the tip of the iceberg. If he knew Nico as well as he thought he did — and by now, Farrell was pretty sure he did — the visible security measures were only a hint at what he couldn’tsee.
They’d all agreed on certain measures — safe rooms, alternate passports, money stored offshore in the event of a roundup by law enforcement — but Farrell was sure he wasn’t the only one who considered those measures a startingpoint.
“Salut,” Nico said, handing him a crystal tumbler filled with amberliquid.
Farrell nodded and touched his glass toNico’s.
Nico’s eyes traveled the trees, his gaze wandering to the roof. “What do yousee?”
Farrell chuckled. It was a game they’d playedbefore.
“Two guards here in the courtyard,” he said. “Obviously. Plus two guards on the roof and cameras there,” he nodded at one tree, then another, “andthere.”
Nico nodded. “Is thatall?”
Farrell sighed. “There’s a guard behind the poolhouse.”
Nico shook his head. “How do youknow?”
“Shadow when he hits the corner on his rounds,” Farrellsaid.
Nico shook his head and took a drink. “Why did you hold out on me about him the firsttime?”
Farrell shrugged. “I didn’t want to hurt yourfeelings.”
Nico grinned. “Kindly bastard.” He gestured to two chairs near the pool. “Let’ssit.”
The courtyard was an oasis in the center of Rome, the pool as blue as the Mediterranean, a fountain trickling quietly at one end of the outdoor room. Farrell caught the scent of orange blossoms on the breeze and let his gaze travel over the citrus and fig trees planted around thepatio.
The property wasn’t as spacious as the hills in Tuscany, but it was as secluded as one could hope to be in Rome, and Farrell took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair, trying to let go of his earlierworry.
“How are the prospects for Boston coming?” Nicoasked.
“I have a couple,” Farrell said. He’d been doing research on possible candidates to run the territory for the past twomonths.
Nico kept his eyes on some point across the pool. “Just acouple?”
Farrell took a drink. “You know how it is — a lot of drunks and bullies up there since Angel steppedout.”
Nico nodded, his eyes darkening. Before he was killed, Angel’s father had run a property development corporation out of Boston as a shelter for his Syndicate territory. Angel had taken it over after his death, using it as a front to eliminate every person who had crossed Nico when she’d thought he wasdead.
To hear the stories, she’d been damn good at it, and Farrell still had trouble reconciling the image of her issuing kill orders against Nico’s enemies with the serene woman who was Stella’smother.
Raneiro Donati’s decision to come for her in Boston had been the beginning of the end for the old Syndicate — and for Nico and Angel in the States. After a harrowing double-cross with the FBI, they’d put Raneiro behind bars and retreated to Bali, where they’d stayed for nearly twoyears.
“What about you?” Nicoasked.
Farrell looked over at him. “Me?”
“How’s business in London?” Nicoasked.
“Business is good,” Farrell said. “The new model is steadily increasing profits, and I think I’ve gotten rid of the last Donatiloyalists.”
He’d given all his men the chance to stay on under the new business model. Some had chosen to leave at the outset, others had stayed long enough to cause trouble. It had taken time to ferret out the men who couldn’t make thetransition.
