AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Of course,” Harry said coolly, trying not to give himself away as confused. “Give me just a few minutes and I’ll meet you in the garden.”
“Yes, Mr. Bellini.”
A tour. It was the last thing Harry wanted to do right now but apparently that’s why Kenan hadn’t asked him. That’s how things were going to be for now. Out of his control.
Harry stashed the identity documents back into the envelope and placed them in the desk drawer, making a mental note to study them further later on. He straightened his clothes, which felt foreign yet curiously fitting on his frame. These people were good. Had they taken his measurements while he was sleeping or something? Stepping out of the sanctuary of his new apartment, he found Gio waiting in the verdant garden blooming with the vibrant colors of the Italian spring.
Gio was a man of medium build, with olive skin that spoke of generations rooted in this land. He had a cautious gait and eyes that seemed to take in more than they let on. There was a skepticism there, the kind that came from living in a small town where strangers were a rarity and even more rarely came without a reason. He wore a simple linen shirt and trousers that were well worn but clean, the attire of a man who valued practicality over fashion.
"Mr. Bellini," Gio greeted him, with a hint of a question marking the end of the name.
Harry offered a disarming smile, sliding into his role. "Thank you for meeting me on such short notice."
Gio nodded, though the line between his brows deepened just a bit. "Of course. It's not often we get someone interested in the more... authentic side of Italian life. We aren’t a tourist location." There was doubt in his voice and Harry understood that.
They started walking, and Harry took in the sights and sounds of the town. The cobblestone streets were narrow and winding, leading them past buildings that held the warmth of sun-touched stones and the whispers of centuries. Flower boxeshung from wrought-iron balconies, and the town square boasted a fountain that had seen better days but still sang with the laughter of children playing around it.
Gio talked about the town with a mix of pride and concern. "It's usually very peaceful here, but recently, there's been a stir. New faces, new... tensions."
Harry chuckled, a light, easy sound. "Well, I guess I’m one of those new faces. But I'm here to soak in the charm and maybe find some inspiration for my writing. I have major writers’ block, and I’m trying to avoid the tourist traps. I tossed a dart at a map and here I am.”
Gio gave him a sidelong glance, the skepticism lessening as Harry's humor seemed to put him more at ease. "I hope you do find inspiration here. Just be careful. Some of these new faces, they're not here for the scenery."
They continued the tour, and Harry made sure to nod and smile at the townspeople they passed, trying to exude the air of a man simply enamored with the local culture. Which if he was being honest, he was. The place was like nothing he’d seen before. Simple. Humble. And it held history. Real history. But he did notice the worried expressions as people took him in as a stranger.
Gio pointed out the best places to eat, the quiet spots by the lake, and the market where the freshest produce was brought in each morning.
As they neared a café that seemed popular with the locals, Gio's pace slowed, and he nodded subtly toward a man sitting alone at a table, his eyes surveying the street with an intensity that didn't match the casual setting.
"That one," Gio murmured, "that’s a man you should avoid.”
“I don’t make it a point to avoid anyone. My work makes me naturally inquisitive. I like to ask questions. Explore.”
Harry followed Gio's gaze, observing the man with a casual interest that belied his internal alertness. The stranger was rugged, with a scar tracing the edge of his jaw and eyes that missed nothing. He had the look of someone who was accustomed to getting what he wanted, and the wary distance the townspeople gave him spoke volumes.
“Do as you like.” Gio shrugged. “But we’ve never had so much trouble as when these men showed up. If you aren’t interested in trouble, I would stay out of their way.”
Harry took a mental snapshot of the man, knowing he'd have to report this back to Kenan. "Maybe he's just looking for a place to retire.”
Gio scoffed softly. "We don’t get a lot of new people here. And the ones we do get don’t stay long. They visit, and then realize this pace is not what they want. They find it boring. Too slow. Too relaxed. Americans especially seem to grow antsy here. Perhaps you’ll see what I mean.”
“I’m overdue for some rest. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll get sick of a slow pace and endless history and beauty. But right now, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“I hope you do stay. Remind the people here outsiders and visitors can be a good thing. There is such unease here at the moment. I feel as though something will happen soon.”
“Like what?” Harry felt as though Gio was desperate to tell him more. To ask for something. Yet he hesitated.
“Meh.” Gio waved him off. “Enjoy your time here. Forget all of this.”
Deciding it was best not to press further, Harry simply nodded and moved on with Gio leading the way. The rest of the tour was uneventful, but Harry's mind stayed on the man in the café and the undercurrent of unease that seemed to flow through the town. There was a story here, one that was beginning to unfold, and he had a feeling it would be anything but boring.
As they made their way back to his apartment, a motorcycle roared through the street at a startling pace and came to a screeching stop a few yards ahead of them.
“No,” Gio protested, holding up a hand but then quickly taking a nervous step back. “You better get in your place,” he said, gesturing for Harry to climb the stairs to his apartment.
“Who is that?”
“An investigator. Or that is what he says. But the way he tries to get information is not by following any kind of rules I’ve ever heard of. He is cruel and unforgiving. Today he comes for the baker. He will try to get him to talk.”
