Page 120 of Sinful Secrets

“Oof.” Francesca says as she jumps down from the shipping container. “We need to split up and head closer. There are at least six cars.”

Savannah jumps down and joins us. “The ship just docked.”

I glance down at my watch. “It’s early.”

Rhett stares in the distance. “We will meet back up with you two in ten minutes behind the large crane.”

There are like a dozen cranes in this port.

“The one that’s a hundred yards from the main dock?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Savannah and I take the longer way to the crane as Rhett and Francesca head down the main road.

I pull Savannah behind a shipping container and ask, “Savannah, I need to know. Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

I know the answer the second I ask her.

She nibbles on her lower lip and shakes her head. “No. I never had a reason to learn.”

Shit, that’s not good.

“Well, now you do.” I run my hand through my hair and shake my head. “After this, you and I will be visiting the gun range every weekend, but for tonight, you can stick by my side and use my backup gun.”

She takes a few steps back. “I can’t.”

I pull out the gun from the small of my back. “You can and you will. All you have to do is point the gun and pull the trigger.”

How could I not make sure she was ready for this life?

She’s so innocent and pure.

Why didn’t I demand for her to stay home tonight?

I hand my gun over to her and give her a quick lesson, showing her how to use a pistol.

“I think I got it.” She says before she repeats what I just showed her.

“Great. That’s all you need to know for the night.”

We continue walking in the shadows, keeping close to one another. It only takes us a few minutes to get to the meetup point behind the crane. Francesca and Rhett are nowhere to be found.

Several men unload the cargo ship and place the pallets of product onto flatbed trucks.

Savannah whispers in my ear. “Why hasn’t Arturo stopped this? Isn’t this his shipment?”

“The client hasn’t arrived yet. He’s not going to intervene until we know, without a doubt, who is responsible for this.”

“Clearly it’s the men in all black doing this. Maybe they lied to make it seem like there’s a client when really, it’s just them.”

“I can see why you think that, since no one is here yet, but part of these jobs is waiting to gather as much information as we can. We have to be patient.”

Right as I finish speaking, another car pulls into the port, stopping next to the flatbed truck.

The driver’s door opens and out steps Elizabeth Marino, looking like she’s going to a wedding or a christening.

“The client is the Rossis.” I whisper.

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