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“I need to find Giancarlo. Maybe he can reason with the manager. Pietro, can you keep Ravenna company?”
“Of course.” Pietro nods. “How are you holding up, Ravenna?”
“Compared to my wedding, this is just a minor quarrel.”
“Yes, I remember that night.”
“Me, too. Very well,” I say.
During my wedding banquet, the Irish mercenaries attacked while everyone was outside watching the fireworks. Several people died, and Rocco had to deal with the authorities until morning. He came home furious and tried to fuck me. Then, he beat me instead.
“Nino tells me Rocco lost one of his security people the other night. Federico, right? Poor bastard, to choke on his food like that.”
The tumbler slips out of my hand, crashing to the floor. My gaze darts toward Alessandro where he is once again lurking next to a wall. His stance is rigid—spine ramrod straight, and his eyes fixed on Pietro.
“Ravenna? Are you all right?” Pietro asks.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
Is it just a coincidence? It can’t be. He asked me the name of the security guard who knew Rocco hit me that very same night. My heart leaps in my chest. Maybe he feels something for me after all?Stop. I need to stop thinking about him. He made his feelings about me very clear this morning.
“You don’t seem fine to me, Ravenna.” Pietro places his hand on my upper arm.
I freeze, unable to move a muscle. Even without Rocco here to witness the touch, a wave of panic still engulfs me at the idea that someone will notice and tell my husband. That man has turned me into one of Pavlov’s dogs.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
I don’t want Pietro to drive me home. I want Alessandro to do it.
“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.” I smile.
I park next to Pietro’s car at the Pisano mansion and grip the steering wheel until my hands hurt as I watch him escort Ravenna to the front door. Only once Pietro is back in his vehicle and pulls out of the driveway do I allow myself to leave my car. I would have snapped his neck otherwise. I hoped fucking Ravenna would get her out of my system, cure me of the damn obsession I’ve developed for her, but it has only made it worse.
I can’t get my bearings where this woman is concerned. I might hate her, but my dick says I don’t. The things she makes me feel are something I’ve never experienced before. Not even with Natalie. I loved my wife. But with Ravenna, my need for her is no longer a craving I can deny. She lodged herself under my skin, a tattoo on my psyche. When did protecting her become more important than killing her to carry out my plan? Saving one woman means I’m betraying another, betraying the promise I’ve made at her grave. But taking Ravenna’s life? I may as well put my own gun to my head.
I climb the stone steps and head inside the mansion. It’s almost midnight, so there’s no one around as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom. Once inside, I remove my jacket and holster, and pull out the house blueprints, spreading the schematic on the small desk tucked into the corner. I need to do something to make me stop thinking about Ravenna.
Two hours later, after I make the ninth mistake in marking the weak spots of the ground floor, I throw the pen across the room and push the papers away.
Leaving my room, I tread along the empty foyer and up the staircase to the second floor. It’s well into the night and, other than the ticking of the grandfather clock on the landing, the house is silent. I turn to the left and head down the hall, stopping at the door to Ravenna’s bedroom. The knob is cold under my palm as I carefully turn it, nudging the door open just a bit. Ravenna is asleep, her long hair spilled across the pillow. A fluffy white blanket is lying tangled at her feet.
I approach the bed and reach out to move a strand that has fallen over her face and neck. Not so long ago, I imagined slicing that delicate throat and watching her blood spill. But now? Now, just the idea of anyone hurting her in any way makes me go completely feral.
When I got this job and came here, it seemed like everything would be so easy. I had a goal and one way of reaching it. But I didn’t count on Ravenna Pisano and her sad green eyes disrupting all to hell.
I need another distraction. Anything that would take my mind off Ravenna. And I need to move forward with my plan. Reevaluate and adapt, I’ve been trained to do that. No plan survives contact with the enemy. So, time to shift.
Messing up Rocco’s construction business will take focus and days of preparation, but, currently, I’m too wrought up to handle anything requiring either. I must have blood. Now! Seems like the moment has come for Rocco’s father to die. Unfortunately, Pisano won’t be there to watch.
I haven’t had a chance to study Elio Pisano’s house, and I don’t know the movement of the security guys. From what I saw while escorting Rocco and Ravenna there, the alarm systems are very basic, but the whole property is heavily guarded. It would be too risky to try and infiltrate it without sufficient recon of patrols. But it doesn’t matter.
Throwing one last look at Ravenna’s sleeping face, I pull the blanket over her and silently exit the room.
***
Elio Pisano’s home is nestled between two other houses. At the one on the left, the garden lanterns are lit, but the lawn around the house on the right is shrouded in darkness. It’ll do.
I use the unlocked garden gate to enter the neighbor’s property and creep along the fence wall that connects it to Elio Pisano’s, approaching the maple tree that’s growing over the divide. Its branches creak and bend under my weight as I ascend to scan the surroundings.
