Page 70 of The Thief

And I’ve fallen in love with her.

“You should see the sappy expression on your face,” Enzo says with a wry shake of his head. “It’s a little nauseating. You have it bad, my friend.”

“It’ll be you one day.”

His lips twist. “I very much doubt that. But I am delighted for you. Why didn’t you invite her to join us today?”

I did ask, and she changed the subject. But I’m not going to tell Tatiana and Enzo that. The two of them are already bristling with over-protectiveness.

“She had other plans,” I lie. “Next month.”

“Good.” Tatiana set her glass on the table. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

She’s already gone through her first glass in record time and is midway through her second, and these aren’t small pours. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tatiana drink during the day, which means something is wrong. I shoot Enzo a questioning look, wondering if he knows what’s bugging her, and he gives me a slight shake of his head.

I’ve learned from experience there’s no point asking her what happened. Tatiana will talk about what’s bothering her when she’s ready and not a second before.

But that’s not going to stop me from asking. “Are you going to tell us what’s wrong?” I demand.

She avoids my gaze and busies herself with her food. “Why do you think something is wrong?”

“You’ve been here for less than thirty minutes, and you’re more than three-quarters of the way through that bottle of wine. You know how nosy Enzo is. If you don’t tell us what’s going on, he might be forced to find out a different way.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “If you must know, I auditioned for a role yesterday.”

“And you didn’t get it?”

“Oh, I got it.” Her voice has a forced calm. “As long as I was willing to suck the director’s cock for the role.” She sighs and pushes her food around her plate. “The sort of thing used to happen all the time when I first started out, but after the last movie, I thought it would get better. But nothing really changes, does it?”

A cold rage fills me. “Who’s the director?”

“And this is why I didn’t say anything. Let it go, Antonio.”

I glance at Enzo. His face is expressionless, but his hands are clenched into fists. He nods slightly when he sees me look at him, and I let myself relax. He’ll take care of it.

* * *

Tatiana leavesright after lunch to catch a flight for a shoot in London. Enzo lingers for a moment longer. “There are more guards out front than normal,” he says. “And that ship blew up in the harbor. What’s going on?”

I consider how much to share. Enzo is the Chief of Police, after all, and I’m definitely on the wrong side of the law. “A high-ranking member of the Gafur OPS approached me a few weeks ago to smuggle weapons through Venice into France. I turned them down, but they don’t seem to know how to take no for an answer. We’re in the process of sorting it out.”

His expression sharpens. “You’re not involved in this weapons smuggling business? At all?”

“Guns are messy,” I reply. “Even though Gafur swears the weapons are going somewhere else, they have a way of ending up where they don’t belong. I don’t want that to happen in Venice.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he says. “The entire thing is a powder keg, and it’s going to explode at any moment. I don’t want you to be anywhere near it.”

I frown. “It’s on your radar?”

“Yes, but not the Russian angle. The DIA has been building a case against Salvatore Verratti for months. They’re almost ready to make an arrest.” His expression turns grim. “Be careful, Antonio. Verratti is broke and desperate for his partnership with the Russians to work. If you’re standing in the way of that, you’re setting yourself up as his target.”

“We’re keeping our eyes open.”

He isn’t reassured. “It might be easy to spot the Russians,” he continues. “But Verratti’s men can blend in better, and Bergamo is only a few hours away. Again, be careful. Don’t underestimate this risk. Until the DIA arrests Verratti and dismantles his organization, you are in danger, and so is everybody else around you. Your people, their families. Everyone is a target.”

Enzo is a very rare thing: an honest cop. I’m very well aware that our friendship puts him in ethical dilemmas from time to time. We usually don’t share information, but he’s gone out on a limb to warn me about this, which means the situation is much more serious than I thought. “Thank you.”

I need to act. We’ve been lucky the last week; no one else has gotten hurt. But Enzo is reminding me that I can’t let my focus wander. This is just the calm before the storm.

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