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“The trail was lost when the nanny placed you into the adoption system. For a time, at least. But we found the nanny, followed the trail, and here you are.”
Yes, I was adopted, but so were thousands of others. Millions of others, probably.
Why does he assume I’m a Carlotti—and the only surviving one, from the sounds of it?
My adoptive parents told me what happened to my birth family, and it didn’t involve anything remotely Mafia or cartel-related—my birth parents died when a drunk truck driver plowed into their car, and when my only remaining relative, an elderly great-aunt, passed away the same month from cancer, I was put into the system and eventually adopted out. I have no cousins that I’m aware of. Certainly none who spent time in prison.
The DNA results won’t match; I’m certain of it. What I’m not so sure about is whether this crazy mob guy will actually let me go. He seems to be fixated on me being Bianca Carlotti, who I’m guessing is someone who could challenge his power base, given he’s the nominal head of the Agosti-Carlotti cartel.
A tiny piece of the jigsaw falls into place.
He needs to maintain his position, and he’s worried I may threaten that.
The situation would be laughable, if it weren’t so terrifying. I can’t believe it is happening, and I don’t know how to make it stop.
He has the wrong girl. I’m not a Carlotti. Not in a million years.
* * *
Rio
She hasthe look of a frozen deer in headlights, but I cannot take more time to explain or coddle her. Danelli has appeared in the VIP area, which means Anders has arrived downstairs.
I had hoped for the phone call about the DNA results before now, but no matter. I will take care of business with Anders, and then focus back on the Carlotti girl afterward.
I nod at my second.I am ready. Send him up.
I turn to Bianca. “Wait at the bar until I’m done.”
She does not need to overhear this conversation, though she needs to be visible. As soon as the DNA results confirm things, I will let her know what I really need from her, beyond being bait for Anders’s boss.
This time round, she doesn’t argue, but instead scurries across the room and slides onto a barstool in the farthest corner of the space. Good. Exactly where I want her, though it is obvious she is trying to get as far away from me as she can.
Too bad for her there are no dark corners where my influence doesn’t reach in this city.
I catch Danelli’s eye yet again and jerk my chin in Bianca’s direction, silently telling him to keep an eye on her. After a moment’s hesitation, in which he follows my gaze, he moves closer to where she’s seated, but his eyes are curious when he stares back at me. I don’t want to know what that look is about.
Then the elevator pings, and Anders is here.
Time to forget anything personal and focus only on the matter at hand. The possible betrayal of my crew—my family—by Anders’s boss, Rossi.
The traitor’s man and his two companions have been patted down prior to being allowed up. They know it is a condition of meeting with me that their weapons are left at the door.
Equally, I know at least one of the three, if not all of them, may still have a weapon hidden somewhere on their person that my men did not catch. I would do the same if I were in their shoes. Never voluntarily surrender all your weapons. Survival of the fittest 101.
I take a seat on the couch vacated by the Carlotti girl, and gesture for Anders to join me.
His gaze is everywhere, assessing and calculating, before he takes a seat on the couch opposite mine. I would not expect anything less than the vigilance he displays. If Anders did not work for Rossi, I would likely offer him a position on my crew.
His henchmen make a move to join him, but two of my men step forward, holding them back.
Anders waves a hand, letting them know to stay where they are, near the bar. As if it is his choice, and not mine, as to how this meeting will play out.
I raise a brow and wait for him to start.
“You’re a hard one to catch up with, Rio,” he says. “Rossi sends his regards and his thanks for agreeing to see me tonight, after…you know…”
He smiles with a fake-friendly air that fools no one. He likely saw the hand of Rossi’s henchman, fingers still clutching the gun, that my crew sent back to Rossi in a box after the failed assassination attempt.
