me. Have someone change the lock on Elizabeth’s room. Put it on the outside.”
She understands why, I’m sure, but doesn’t comment. Just nods.
“I’ll see you tonight, Lenore.”
“Be safe, Cristiano.”
That’s her standard goodbye whenever I leave the island.
I get my shoulder holster from the study and tuck my gun beneath my jacket. I head toward the front doors, two eight-foot steel reinforced doors. I’m not taking any chances. The pilot of the chopper is in close conversation with Antonio, the head of my security detail.
“Cristiano, you want us to ready the chopper? You didn’t call down, but it’ll just take a few minutes.”
“No, I’m taking the boat today. Alone.”
“That’s not a good idea. Tensions are high. People are anxious,” Antonio says.
“Then follow me with another boat. I don’t care but I’m taking the boat. Alone.”
For a moment I’m sure he’s going to argue with me, but I walk out the door into the bright sunlight. It’s late fall so even though the sun shines, it’s a cool day. Good. It’s just what I need to clear my head. Today is a big day.
10
Cristiano
By the time I dock the speedboat in Naples, I’m more focused.
I’m surprised when I see my uncle David is here to greet me. He’s standing beside the first SUV, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other around the phone he’s got to his ear. He simply nods in greeting, expression serious.
Antonio and the soldiers who will accompany me dock beside my boat as I secure mine. I wonder what we look like, me ahead of the three, all of us in dark suits, dark sunglasses, heading to the row of waiting SUVs with their tinted windows.
Money, I guess. We look like money.
And trouble.
The Grigori family back to take its rightful place at the top. Except that we’re not much of a family anymore. We’re a two-man show.
“Uncle,” I greet him. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
He tucks his phone into his pocket and shakes my hand, glancing behind me. “You should take the chopper. It’s safer.”
“I’m fine. I needed the air. Why are you here?”
He studies me as he considers this. “I have two names.”
I feel my jaw tense but nod.
“Tell me you did what I said,” he says.
“Which part?”
“The girl. Is she out of your system?”
“She was never in my system,” I lie.
“You didn’t do it, did you? You didn’t get rid of her.”
“She’ll warm my bed for another few days. Leave it. She’s not your concern.”
“She’s a threat. Her family will want her back.”
“Her family’s dead. You mean the cartel will want her back. Maybe. Maybe not. And if they do, it could be to make her queen or to kill her. If it’s to make her queen, then she’s valuable. There are those who are loyal to her, to her family. We have to think farther down the road, Uncle. We can still use the cartel and if I have their princess, then I hold something of value.”
“And her fiancé?”
I raise my eyebrows. “He’s no longer her fiancé.”
“Call him what you want. He can use her to secure his position with the cartel. It’s easier to be rid of her.”
“And if he were to walk onto the island to take her, I’d have the opportunity of a lifetime. But we both know he’s too much of a pussy to do that.”
“He’s not going to be walking onto the island, Cristiano,” he says, dropping the subject of Scarlett. At least for now.
“What do you mean? Did you find him?”
He looks around, gestures to the SUV. “Get in. We’ll talk on the way to my office. You won’t be late to your meeting.”
I do, and he follows. I look out of the bullet proof window, glance at the row of SUVs trailing us. My uncle doesn’t like to take any chances with his life. It’s funny to see how much he values it, in a way. He wants to live. He has a passion for life. Or a healthy fear of death. Two things in which we are on opposite ends of the spectrum.
“Here.” He hands me a folder out of his briefcase. He’s old-school. Leave no electronic trail. Ever. It’s probably what’s kept him out of prison.
I open the folder and the first thing I see is a grainy photo of the man who orchestrated my family’s massacre.
The younger Marcus Rinaldi.
I flip through the photos, look at the vast, empty land around him. I look at the men in their pickup