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"Got it," I say, my voice steady despite the unease swirling inside me. "I'll stay away from Marco and keep Dario at arm’s length." I plop down onto the couch, getting comfortable, while Elena moves in behind her computer.
She types something on her keyboard and turns to look at me. "Well, it might not be that easy. Marco already asked around about you tonight, before the race."
I sit up straight. "Do you think they suspect something? Will my cover hold under closer scrutiny?"
That scar…the long, jagged line that runs down Marco's left cheek. I can't shake the image of it from my mind. It's like a lightning bolt forever etched on his face—a warning that he's a man to be feared, Dario's right-hand man and enforcer. How exactly am I supposed to avoid someone so deeply connected to the very man I'm trying to bring down?
"Everyone at the race tracks has been fed this story over a few months, and the gossip mill will solidify your cover." Turning back to her computer, Elena starts rattling off my background story:
"You're Jasmine Abella, owner of a custom car design mechanic store. You've been in the racing world since you were a teenager, making a name for yourself with your speed and precision behind the wheel. As far as they're concerned, you're just a car enthusiast. You were born into a loving family, no siblings, but your parents died in a car accident and you were raised by your aunt and uncle. Your cousins taught you to drive."
I try to concentrate on what she’s saying, reminding myself of the details, but facts jar with fiction. My parents never loved me. I had a sister who died at the hands of the mafia. There were no aunts or uncles, just a brutal foster care system. All I had was the streets.
I'm forced to stop reminiscing when Elena's voice breaks through my thoughts. "He might be into you, Jasmine. He might think you're an interesting woman but you must remember…"
"…it’s all about the mission." I finish her sentence.
"Exactly," Elena nods. "And that means we need to be extra careful. If either of them suspects that there's more to you than meets the eye, everything we've worked for could crumble in an instant."
"Understood," I settle back, feeling the weight of her words. I have to stay vigilant, keep my eyes open, and never let my guard down. I may be playing a role, but in this high-stakes world of fast cars, crime and missing kids, one wrong move could cost us everything.
As I focus on my mission, an unsettling thought niggles at the back of my mind. What if I can't keep up the act? What if I lose myself in this world, and forget who I am and what I'm fighting for?
"Hey," Elena says softly, pushing back her chair. She walks over and sits down on the couch next to me. With her hand on my shoulder she pulls me back from the edge of self-doubt. "You're stronger than you think, Jasmine. You've got this."
"I hope so," I murmur, clenching my fists. "We have to bring down The Don Marchetti and bring those kids back home safe. That man is pure evil and if his son is anything like him, then he must be stopped too," I think of Dario, fear sprouting in the pit of my stomach.
"Listen," Elena says, her tone serious as she leans in closer. "I know you're invested to pull off this operation successfully, but I need you to be careful. The Marchettis are dangerous and unpredictable. If, at any time, you feel threatened, use your safe word and we will initiate extraction protocol."
I refuse to believe Dario is as dangerous as Elena thinks after what he did tonight by saving my life, but I nod my head in agreement.
As if reading my thoughts she continues: "Dario pulling you out of that wreckage tonight was just coincidence, not an indication of a good Samaritan hiding under a mob identity." She chuckles to herself. "Although…"
I look at her, now curious. "What is it?"
Elena hesitates for a moment, clearly weighing her words carefully. She shakes her head and chuckles again. "Well, as much as he tries to hide it, Dario has a sort of hero complex. It's like he can't help himself when he sees someone's in trouble.
"Interesting," I murmur, filing away this crucial piece of information. It makes sense, given how he saved me tonight. Pretending to be a damsel in distress might not be my preferred approach, but if it keeps me safe while I uncover Dario's secrets, then it's a small price to pay.
"We could play into that habit. If we want to bring him down, we need to exploit it."
Elena gives me a curt nod. "Now go get some rest, Jasmine. Tomorrow is another long day, and we need you at your best."
I leave the unassuming building and step out into the night, my heartbeat quickening as thoughts of Dario race through my mind. The fact that he's actively seeking me out means he has eyes on me—eyes I need to stay one step ahead of.
This is the profession I chose, my life’s calling, and I'm bent on bringing down the Marchetti Empire, even if it means playing a dangerous game with its unpredictable don.
Navigating the shadowy streets of Rome, I make my way back to my temporary apartment, my senses on high alert.
Finally, I reach home and close the door behind me, leaning against it for just a moment. Pushing off the door, I go to change into something more comfortable and settle onto my couch, trying to quiet my racing thoughts. My eyelids grow heavy, but sleep seems impossible given everything that's happened tonight.
Just as I'm about to drift off, a knock at the door jolts me awake. My heart skips a beat, and I quickly check the peephole. There's no one there.
I'm about to step away when I notice an envelope under the door.
I open the door and look to my left and right but the hallway is empty.
With a racing heart, I shut the door and pick up the envelope. My fingers tremble as I unfold the crisp paper, revealing an elegant invitation. It's for a masquerade ball, hosted at the Marchetti estate this weekend. How did he find out where I live? Maybe through the inquiries Marco made today. I swallow.
