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I spread my hands wide in a conciliatory gesture, sensing I've hit a nerve. "I'm well aware there are nuances, Alessa. But I'm sure you can understand my position here."
She snorts again, but I catch a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. She despises being viewed as one-dimensional. I know there are complexities beneath that ruthless facade. But I need to remain cautious until I understand where the boundaries lie.
"My networks are legitimate, if underground," she says at last. "There are no criminal enterprises involved. But my fatherwillbe one of the people involved. You understand?"
Oh, I understand. I force myself not to shudder. The last thing I want to do is work with Johnny the Gentleman. But needs must.
"Fine. As long as you understand that I need any information you have about this planted evidence, as soon as practicable. It's what you should want, too—if there's corruption in the case against you—"
"Yes, yes, it will be thrown out," she says impatiently. "And I'll disclose what I can. But not until after we get Elena Martinez out safely. She's the priority." Alessa's voice brooks no argument.
And I can see it in her face, what she's not saying. Elena's life hangs in the balance. "You're right," I agree. "She is the priority. I understand that your assets are frozen. You'll need resources to guarantee her safety. How do you plan to—"
"Uh-uh, Agent Miller." Alessa's eyes flash dangerously as she wags a warning finger at me. "I have my ways. You don't need to know."
It's probably better if I don't. "I wasn't trying to pry," I say carefully. "And I assume that you'd reach out to your cousin for help. From what I know of Juno Bianchi, she has extensive connections that—"
"No." Alessa's sharp refusal takes me aback. "I won't involve my cousin in Mancini affairs." At my questioning look, she exhales impatiently. "I realize the complexities of Family loyalties are lost on you. But Juno can't be seen as interfering with the Mancini enterprises. If word got out that she was involved…" She trails off, dark with meaning.
I sit back, realization dawning. Of course. Juno is the head of the Bianchi Family. She would be in a delicate position if word ever got out that she helped this Elena Martinez escape the Mancini brothels. But I can see that Alessa's desire to protect her cousin wars with her need to help Elena.
Before I can respond, her expression shutters again. "Anyway, I'm not some penniless peasant just because the Ruby is closed for the moment. I'll handle it. Once Elena is safe, I'll answer your questions." Her mouth twists. "After all, we both want the truth…don't we, Natalie?"
Her use of my first name sends an unexpected spark through me. I ignore it, clinging to the familiar refuge of facts. I open my mouth to respond, but stop as the waitress reappears with our food—burgers and fries, just like last time we were here.
The tension in the air dissipates for a moment as we both dig in. But the closeness of Alessa tingles across my skin, impossible to ignore. This is dangerous, being near her. A dizzying dance on a knife edge, and any misstep could cut deep.
Alessa's knowing look tells me she senses it too, feels that electric hum between us.
Yes, it's a dangerous game. With a dangerous prize at the end of it, even if I win. Because what would I win? Proof of my team's corruption? Or I'll help complete the utter downfall of Alessa de Luca, and her charities and networks of salvation along with her.
There's no winning here, and this tentative alliance already feels like a powder keg, moments away from igniting. I just pray I can maintain control long enough to find the truth, no matter how terrible that truth may be.
The waitress gathers our empty plates and departs, leaving us staring at one another. Alessa breaks the silence first. "I'll set things up and tell you what I need from you."
"What exactly…doyou need?"
"Another pair of hands, since Daddy and I will both be under heavy surveillance from you assholes."
"Actually," I say, and then shut my mouth.
Alessa stares at me. "Actually what?"
I sigh. "Actually…you might find there's less surveillance than you're expecting."
One of her brows quirks with interest. "I see. Interesting. Now, Natalie, I'll want you to keep that kind of information flowing. Nothing classified," she huffs, as I begin to protest. "But I will need to know when the FBI is looking the other way long enough to get Elena on a train—or a plane—or a boat. You understand?"
I hesitate, still uneasy, but eventually nod. That vulnerable young woman has to be my priority, just as it clearly is Alessa's. I remember Sienna, the last young woman, and how desperate she must have been to hide out in Alessa's safe room at the Ruby for two weeks before it was clear to move her.
I've heard the stories about the Mancini brothels. I can't turn my back on helping anyone out of them, no matter who it means working with.
"Good." Alessa sits back looking satisfied. "I'll be in touch in the next day or two. Don't contact me until then." She sniffs. "I know how impatient you Feds get."
I bristle at her imperious tone, but simply incline my head in assent.
After settling up the check—I pay, after Alessa's cool glance at me—we walk outside together, keeping a deliberate distance between us. The rain has stopped but a chill breeze slices through my jacket, raising goosebumps along my arms. I shove my hands into my pockets and turn to face Alessa beneath a streetlight.
She stands haloed by its golden glow, the shadows accentuating the elegant angles of her face. A fallen angel tempting a foolish mortal. In this light, Alessa looks like something cut from marble, cold and remote.
