Page 32 of Iron Blade

They were trying to hide it, but it was obvious in the way she leaned into his touch, and how he was able to read her expression with an attentiveness that could only come from someone who spent a lot of time together. A lot of intimate time together.

“I was just talking about you.” Cosima gestured for Giovanni to take the empty seat at the table. “This is my friend from the art gallery, Kira Kekoa.”

As she started taking her seat, he pulled out her chair, then pushed it in under her as she lowered into it. Before unbuttoning his blazer to take the empty chair, he squeezed her bare shoulder, and she blushed. I suppose that movement could have looked paternal, but my skin crawled.

He was old enough to be her father! He had known her since she was born! I was horrified.

“Kekoa?” Uncle Gio asked. “What a memorable name.”

“I get that a lot,” I said with an uneasy smile as I felt his eyes roam my body. “It’s the alliteration.”

“Hmm, a family tradition?”

“Yes, my father’s idea of a joke. He was Kent. I’m Kira.”

His eyes roamed my body again, and goosebumps spread over my skin. His brows pinched together, then his expression closed off again.

“We were talking about the Greens,” Cosima said, her lips slightly parted.

Giovanni Morelli’s eyes immediately narrowed as he stared me down.

“Why would you be talking about them?”

My skin immediately broke out into goosebumps, aware of the air’s drop in temperature.

“Stay away from them, Cosa.” Morelli turned to his goddaughter, his tone admonishing. “I mean it, sweetheart, they’re no good. They’re more dangerous than they let on.”

He was really scared for her. I could tell in the way his fists clenched, and he looked at her with adoration.

“I know, that’s what I was just telling Kira.” Cosima batted her eyelashes as if this man hung the moon, and she didn’t want to disappoint him.

At the mention of my name his eyes turned back to me.

His gray eyes matched the color of his graying hair. “What do you know about the Greens?”

I bristled. “Eoghan Green owns the gallery I work at…”

“Yes, I know about that money laundering scheme. Very smart of that young man.” He chewed on the thought, begrudgingly. “Fucking useless paintings…”

“Hey!” My hand slammed on the table.

Maybe I was inflating prices for paintings. Maybe I embellished stories to sell to the masses of useless patrons with more money than taste. And, okay, sure, I was a government agent, using this as a cover to fund clandestine operations.

But art was not useless. It was the highest form of humanity, the likes of which the man before me would never understand.

“Art is one of the greatest things that most people will never understand,” I asserted, my voice coming out more aggressive than I intended. “When we are ash, and dirt, our society won’t be judged on its dollars and the DOW Jones. It’ll be judged on art.”

Morelli snorted as he lifted his hand at a passing waiter that was overburdened with trays. After he was acknowledged, he dropped his hand, and turned as his eyes snapped to me.

“I don’t pretend to know about the arts, Miss Kekoa.” Him saying my name that way sent a shiver down my spine.

Not the way Eoghan did. When he called me Miss Kekoa he sounded traditional and gallant - like he belonged in a different time, and was trying to bring chivalry back into fashion.

“But I do know the Greens.” He wagged a finger, as if he was lecturing a child. “I know young Eoghan well. I know his father even better. They are vicious men, who will stop at nothing to get what they want. They are men of violence, and cruelty. You are best staying far, far away from them.”

Cosima’s chest inflated, smug at the fact that her hero had supported her previous statement.

“If you have Eoghan Green’s attention, then you need to make yourself scarce.” Giovanni’s voice lowered, his eyes narrowing as his next words made me shiver with unease. “Run away, Miss Kekoa. Run far, far away.”

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