Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,48

stunned. I could feel a folded piece of paper and what felt like a key in my palm. I quickly stashed them in my purse when Romero appeared beside me. “What are you doing here, Cosima?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

She flashed her teeth at him. “I wanted to see how Aria was doing and asked her if we could meet for lunch soon. But now I need to go. I have a hair appointment.” She gave me a warning look, then she walked out, high heels clacking on the marble floor.

Romero was watching me. “What did she say?”

“What she told you,” I said, raising my chin. “I want to go up now.” He wanted me to act like his boss, so he couldn’t expect me to open up to him. He nodded and led me toward the elevator with a curt nod toward the two receptionists.

The moment we entered the penthouse, I excused myself and headed into the guest bathroom. I pulled out what Cosima had given me and unfolded the piece of paper.

Aria,

The key is for one of the apartments the Vitiellos own. Come over tonight at ten p.m. to see what your husband is really up to while you warm his bed. Be careful and quiet, and don’t tell anyone. Romero will try to stop you. Shake him off.

The address was at the bottom of the page. The note wasn’t signed and it was written with a computer. Was it from Cosima? It would make sense. I read it over and over again. It could be a trick, or worse, a trap, but curiosity burned through me. Luca hadn’t exactly been the most present husband so far. The only problem was how to get to the apartment and how to get rid of Romero. He never left my side.

* * *

I convinced Romero to take me out to dinner at a restaurant that, according to Google maps, was only a five-minute walk from the address Cosima had given me. When Romero used the guest bathroom in our apartment, I used the moment to take a small gun Luca kept in one of the top drawers in the walk-in closet. I’d noticed it when I’d unpacked my suitcases and folded my clothes into drawers. I hid it in the side pocket of my bag. Even though I didn’t have much experience with guns, I knew how to handle them in theory. Better safe than sorry.

* * *

It was a quarter past nine. Romero and I had just finished our starter, when I stood to head for the bathroom. Romero pushed back his chair and was about to stand as well.

I glared. “You won’t follow me to the bathroom. Do you think I’ll get lost on the way? People will be staring. Nobody knows who I am here. I’m safe.”

Romero sank back down. The bathroom was past a corner, closer to the door than our table. I slipped out of the restaurant, took flats from my purse and put them on. Then I hurried toward the address. It would take at least five minutes before Romero would venture toward the bathroom, and hopefully even longer before he’d barge in to check on me.

When I arrived in front of the brownstone building, I hesitated. It didn’t have a reception, only a narrow corridor and a steep staircase. Then I took a deep breath and entered. The key said the apartment was on the third floor. I took the elevator hidden in a dark corner behind the stairs. During the ride up, doubt overcame me. Maybe I shouldn’t have listened to the letter. The elevator came to a halt and the door rattled open. My eyes darted to the button that would take me back to the ground floor, but instead I stepped out and found the apartment door. It wasn’t completely shut.

My heart fluttered with fear. This seemed like a really bad idea, but curiosity was stronger than worry. I pushed the door open and peered in. The living room was dark and empty, but light was coming from somewhere else. I rested my hand on the gun in my purse, then crept further in, but froze when I heard a woman cry out. “Yes! Harder!”

Dread settled in me as I followed the voice. I had heard it before. The light was spilling out of an open door. I stopped in front of it, hesitating. I could still turn around and pretend I’d never received the