The Woman at the Docks - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,74

have better taste than he does," Antony said, giving his son a smirk. "Allow me to send you over a bottle. "No no," he said, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth to object. "I insist."

"Thank you."

"Ah, Mario is taking care of you," he said, clamping a hand on the server's shoulder as he moved in at his side. "You're in great hands. I will leave you to order. I will share a coffee with you after your meal. Romy, so nice seeing you again."

Luca watched his father walk away with pinched brows. Confused, almost? Which didn't really make sense. I wanted to ask him about it, but not in front of the server.

"You're going to have to help me out here," I told Luca. "Because everything sounds good."

Luca gave me a smile, reaching for my menu, stacking it on his, handing them to Mario as he rattled off a string of words in what sounded like perfect Italian.

I didn't speak it, but that didn't matter. There was something undeniably sexy about someone who could speak a second language. Especially doing so with such confidence.

"That was hot," I admitted once Mario excused himself.

"Don't get too excited," he told me, smiling. "I can pretty much only order food and curse someone out. Leandro taught us only the important things," he said, smiling. "It's nice to see you smiling," he added, tipping his head to the side a bit, looking me over, making my skin feel warm.

"I went a little scary there for a couple days, huh?" I agreed, giving the bartender who moved in at our sides with a bottle of wine a smile.

This was all official business.

The bottle was opened with a small bit of ceremony. Luca was given a taste. And I was charmed enough not to be offended that he was the one to get to do the tasting. The wine was approved, and I got my glass, then Luca, and then the bottle was left with a wish for us to enjoy.

"This place is really fancy," I decided, smiling over the rim of my glass.

"To baby steps," Luca toasted me, clinking my glass. "And no, you weren't scary. You were grieving."

"I wasn't exactly... showering," I reminded him, shaking my head at myself. It was easy, with a little distance from it, to cringe at how deep I had sunk so quickly.

"I wasn't judging you, Romy," he said, shaking his head. "I think any normal person would have been just as shocked and saddened as you were."

"Have there been any new developments?" I asked.

"We don't have to talk about that now."

"It's okay. I'm okay. I can handle it. I promise," I added when he looked dubious. "And I even give your permission to forcibly shower me if I am not okay and turn back into a bed troll again."

"Okay," he agreed, taking a deep breath. "Working with our new information," he started, meaning knowing that my sister was a big part of this trafficking scheme, "we have found some corroborating evidence. About Celenia being involved. About the people she has been known to hang around with in Venezuela. They've been general menaces to society in mostly small ways. But a few of them have a couple attempted rape and rape charges."

"No surprise there," I grumbled into my wine that suddenly didn't taste quite as delicious as it had a moment before.

"Has anyone seen her?"

"No. No one has seen any of these people since before the news stories broke about the containers."

"But you don't think they're gone."

'They're not gone," he insisted, shaking his head. "Sorry I'm not sugar-coating that, but I need you to know that this isn't the end. They didn't learn from their ways, find God, and repent for all the evil they've done. People who traffick other people don't go back to nine-to-fives."

"It's profitable," I figured.

"Depending on who is being sold and for what purpose, each individual can be sold from between five and forty grand."

"That is what a life, a soul is worth to my sister. Forty-thousand dollars. That's despicable," I concluded, finally tripping into the anger stage of grief.

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," he suggested, reaching across the table to place his hand over mine, making me realize I'd been bending my fork.

"I need to know, Luca," I told him. "I'm not a little kid. I can't be protected from the truth."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding. "But that is pretty much all we know right now. They're hiding out. But they won't