Page 31 of Iron Blade

Cosima was nice to me because of my place in the art world. I was like a collector’s item. If I was in their back pocket, they could always say “oh, my friend Kira Kekoa, the one who works at Gallery Four…” and instantly look like they knew a thing or two about art.

If she ever met me - the real me - she wouldn’t give me the time of day. These people were great at hiding their true colors.

I was a little buzzed, and a whole lot bitter. So I softened my annoyance by drinking even more.

That’s what happens when your Italian friend decides that she's going to treat you to her family’s restaurant. Their farm-to table - or is it vineyard-to-table? - wine was so good, I couldn’t resist imbibing a little bit. A-lot-a-bit. Whatever.

“Look, Gionvanni Morelli is my father’s closest friend and advisor,” Cosima said, still whispering like she was telling me the secret of the universe, and didn’t want it to get out to the rest of the world. “He has always warned me about going near the Greens because they… they…”

She stopped, mer mouth clamping shut.

Come on, woman! Spill the beans!

“They… what?” I whispered, matching her tone.

“The old families had some… drama… a few years back. The last generation. Eoghan Green’s mother was a casualty of it. She… she suffered.” Cosima’s eyes looked so weary, as if telling me this was exhausting her beyond what she was able to handle. “And the rumor is that Eoghan Green’s father wants to make other women suffer the way she did.”

“Suffer… how?” I asked, completely enthralled. This was it. She was opening up. She was going to be a good source of intelligence, after all. “What women?”

“Don’t ask me, please.” Cosa’s eyes were pleading for me to understand. “But we all live in fear that he’ll come after us… old man Green, I mean.”

Come after “us”? Did that mean the Mafia wives and daughters? Alastair Green had kidnapped Yuliya Vasilieva, and beaten her to within an inch of her life, then strung her up on the docks as an example. If she confessed something that specific to me - something I knew to be true, because I had it from the most reliable source - then it would only be a matter of time before I heard everything else.

“This seems like a lot of speculation and rumors,” I said, as if I was trying to just hear some gossip. I couldn’t let on that I wanted anything more than that.

Cosa looked down at her hands that played with the stem of her wine glass. “It’s complicated. Uncle Gio, my godfather, has never steered me wrong, and I just want you to know…”

Her voice trailed off, and I had a choice to make. I could push, or I could retreat and try again later.

I wasn’t like Blink, who could get information from a stone. I had to think about it, and read the situation right. Manipulating people didn’t come naturally to me. I was hired as a forger, and the spying… well, that had to be something I learned over time.

So I gave it a shot. I threw my Hail Mary.

“Are you in the mafia?” I finally asked out right, looking around us at the swanky restaurant. “Is that… your family business?”

I couldn’t believe that I was asking the question so casually. It was ridiculous.

Hey, are you related to Al Capone?

But that’s what I was dealing with. That was the truth.

“I…” Cosima’s eyes looked pained.

There was a squeezing in my heart that felt a whole lot like guilt. Was it possible that I liked her as more than just a mark? Between her and Eoghan, what the fuck was I thinking?

Maybe Blink was right, and I was meddling too close to something I didn’t understand.

“Sweetheart!” A gray haired man appeared, his face weathered and white.

I knew who he was, even before Cosima stood up, and greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. “Uncle Gio!”

He held her shoulders, and held her at arm’s length, staring intently at her face.

“You look upset, piccolo.” His low, rough voice was deeper than I imagined. Age certainly hadn’t taken the manliness out of his deep baritone. “What’s happened?”

His face was laced with concern as he looked at his beloved… goddaughter? Niece?

‘No,’ my mind cried out, ‘They’re lovers!’

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