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And because it’s too easy, I smile as I deliver the final blow. “Look at the bright side. Your skin will match your orange prison uniform—you’re already color-coordinated for the occasion.”
Hurt, betrayal, and disbelief pass through his face in a single moment before he jumps from the table, knocking over his chair with a loud clatter. He spins away from the table, racing to the exit and throwing himself through the doors. I follow his movements through the restaurant windows as he takes off down the street, with sirens howling in the distance.
CHAPTERFIFTY-FOUR
SIMONE
As the FBI agent instructed, I wait for the feds to arrive at the hotel restaurant. They commend me on my bravery, thank me for exposing Trent’s nefarious doings, and half-joke about me joining the bureau. I respectfully decline.
The agents ask a few more arbitrary questions and send me on my way.
Walking out of the hotel restaurant, I call headquarters’ tech department. PT answers my call. “Mercy Ravens Security. How can I assist you?”
“Hi, Tom. This is Simone. Could you send me Piero Bianchi’s number? I have information regarding his case.”
“Sure thing, Miss Holland.” PT disconnects and texts me the mafia don’s number.
I take a deep breath and call Piero.
“Yes?” a silky accent greets me in a clipped tone. The man is all business, all the time. I appreciate his directness.
“Signore Bianchi,” I greet sweetly. “I know who’s responsible for stealing the Oldani funds.”
“Simone?Un momento.” He pauses our conversation, giving muffled orders in Italian. It sounds like he may have been in a meeting and sent everyone out of the room. With the background now quiet, he chuckles into his cell. “Does your biker know you’re calling me?”
“I’m handling this solo.”
Piero hums with approval. “A woman taking charge—I like it.”
I roll my eyes, grateful the mobster isn’t able to see my reaction to his blatant flirting. “Taken, Piero—I’m taken. Well, I hope I still am. I’m afraid Chase may be upset with me at the moment.”
“The man would be a fool to walk away from you. He may be mad, but I’m sure it’s nothing a little conversation couldn’t fix.”
“My hope as well.”
“So…you have a name,” he purrs, anticipation coating his voice. I imagine him sitting back in his leather chair, rubbing his hands together like some master villain in a movie. It reminds me I’m talking to a very dangerous, high-ranking member of a notorious crime family with a reputation for breaking the law.
Warring internally, I rub at my neck, reminding myself I’m doing the right thing. Trent made his bed—I’m not responsible for how Piero may retaliate against him.
“The man responsible for taking your money is Trent Grills, former investment accountant at P.L. Moore Financial, in Sacramento.”
“Former?”
“Pretty sure the firm isn’t going to want him back. I sort of tipped off the FBI to him embezzling from the firm, and he’s now on the run.”
“Simone,” Piero chuckles. “You’re delightful.”
“You mind telling Chase that? I could use a good word.”
“I will sing your praises. Anything else I should know?”
“Find Trent, and you’ll find your money. You’ll need his access code to retrieve the money wherever he’s deposited it unless you have an amazing hacker like Chase. Passwords change, but Trent’s a creature of habit. Try ‘Simone&TrentForever8’ or a variation of it if he’s not cooperative.”
The mobster is quiet for a long moment before he asks, “This man, he was a former lover,sì?”
“Once upon a time,” I grate begrudgingly. There’s no point dwelling on how Piero knows this intimate detail of my past. A man of his stature and wealth does his own background checks on those he associates with.
“Did he hurt you?”
