Page 4 of Roberto

Niccolo was pacing back and forth furiously.

“Thank God,” he said when he saw me.

Dario looked over Alessandra’s shoulder and gave me a subtle nod.

“What happened?!” I asked.

“Sniper,” my twin said, keeping his voice low. “Lars is hunting him down right now.”

“Where’s Valentino?”

Niccolo looked dour. “He wanted to search the property with the soldiers. He wouldn’t stop bitching about it, so I let him go.”

“Sounds like Valentino.” I glanced at Alessandra and Bianca, then whispered so they couldn’t hear me. “Do you think Fausto’s behind it?”

“Probably. Unfortunately, that’s not all.”

He told me how Massimo and the Widow had been attacked in Venice by Russian mercenaries. Massimo had killed them all; now he was on his way to retrieve the old woman’s granddaughter and take her to safety.

“He’s alright?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then it turned out well,” I said optimistically.

Niccolo grimaced. “Just wait until you hear the rest.”

Before I’d entered the safe room, Niccolo had received a call from Pietro, the pilot for our private jet.

Someone – presumably more Russian mercenaries – had gone to the Venice airport and fired a rocket-propelled grenade into the hangar where our jet was housed. One wing and engine were damaged, grounding it indefinitely.

“Massimo’s going to have to get out of Venice some other way,” Niccolo said.

I was no good with military tactics, so I focused on what I knew best: numbers.

Repairing the plane would cost millions –

But there was a silver lining.

“We have insurance,” I said.

“At the moment, that’s theleastof my worries,” Niccolo said wryly.

“But we have a terrorism rider, plus an allotment for rentals while our plane is repaired. I should be able to get them to provide a substitute, which could get Massimo home faster.”

“Hm… alright, call them and set it up. But I need to knowexactlywhere the new plane’s coming from. Right now, we have no idea who we can trust.”

“All the information is back in my office – the insurance policy, my contact’s name – ”

“Then it’ll have to wait.”

“Every single pane of glass in the house is bulletproof,” I reminded him. “Remember? 1.7 million euros for the retrofit?”

“I remember, and I don’t care.” Niccolo glanced over his shoulder at Alessandra and Bianca before whispering, “They shotthroughthe bulletproof glass.”

“How?!” I asked, already wondering how much of a refund I could get back.

“They fired twice.”

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