Page 30 of Victorious Vice

My knowledge of Italian has helped a little. I can pick out words and phrases from what they’re saying. But damn, they speak so quickly.

I hurry out of the warehouse to the car that’s waiting.

“I wish we weren’t staying at the Agudelo house,” I say.

“Yeah, I agree. We can’t speak freely there.”

I press my lips together. “On the other hand, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He needs to think I’m a friend. I need to make this deal happen so my grandfather will trust me enough to take over.”

I say no more.

Though I do believe our driver is trustworthy, and I doubt he can hear us, I don’t know for sure. For all I know, he could be an enemy. He could have surveillance equipment in the backseat.

Mario could be having us watched at this moment.

So could Agudelo.

It’s doubtful, as we put a lot of our own surveillance in place, but I still can’t be a hundred percent sure that we haven’t been followed.

I can’t be a hundred percent sure of anything at this point.

Damn. Bellamy.

What the hell is his role in all of this?

That Texas rancher who wears jeans and cowboy boots and bolo ties. Blond and blue-eyed, with his all-American good looks. Married to a Mexican beauty queen, Starling Esparza.

Father to five beautiful children… One of whom is an ex-con.

Fuck.

It all must come together in some way.

Mario thought I would be here for a month. After reading through all of the documents, and my meeting with Agudelo—which included Vega as well—I think I can be out of here in two weeks. I can get this deal made. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can get back on my home turf where I have the advantage.

Another big lunch tomorrow at the Agudelo home.

I need to find out what I can about Bellamy before then. Though I doubt there’s a way to access the dark web from the Agudelo home. Everything probably goes through a huge network that he keeps track of.

My only chance is to get this deal settled as quickly as I can and get back home where I can research Bellamy more thoroughly.

So many pieces to this puzzle. Not one of them seems to fit together.

Mario Bianchi.

Diego Vega.

Giacomo Puzo.

Jacinto Agudelo.

Brick Latham.

The old woman in the photo.

And Austin Bellamy.

And whoever the hell is buried under the Bellamy barn.

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