Page 41 of Kissing Danger

D’Angelo just smirked as he helped himself to the contents of my liquor cabinet.

“And I assume that charming ball of energy is yours.”

“A new prospect, but a promising one. However, that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”

With glass in hand, D’Angelo sat himself on the other side of my desk, poised with one leg casually crossed over the other. Although I’d only known Deacon for a short time, his obsession over fashion and design had already rubbed off on me and I couldn’t help but notice the quality of D’Angelo’s suit.

At first glance, it seemed to be made from Italian silk, which would be apropos for the leader of an Italian Mafia family. However, after closer inspection, it turned out his suit was actually made from Russian silk. When I’d been researching what to give Deacon as a present, I’d considered Russian silk, as it was the most sought-after type of silk in the world. In the end, I’d decided it wasn’t impressive enough and chosen the Vicuna fabric instead.

This train of thought led me back to my original problem. The poisoned vicuna fabric that had killed one of my designers and nearly killed Kiki. I was still trying to figure out how it was poisoned in the first place, which was why I had contacted D’Angelo.

“What do you know about pyrenic?”

Taking a sip from his drink, D’Angelo placed the glass on a small table by his chair. “Cutting right to the chase, I see. You know,when you called me, that wasn’t the question I expected you to ask. Caprice has always been a pain in my ass, but she rarely uses poisons. Such options were always too... bloodless for her.”

It was as I feared. Caprice must be working with someone else. It would explain why she chose such an uncharacteristic form of attack, but if her accomplice was the one who helped her get access to the Vicuna fabric I’d bought, then that meant...

D’Angelo obviously followed my train of thought, for he gave my fears a voice.

“You think there’s a rat within your own organization.”

With a slow, regretful gesture, I nodded. “It would explain a few things, though it opens a lot more problems. That’s why I need to know about pyrenic.”

In the room beyond the door, I could just barely hear Deacon speaking with the other artists D’Angelo had brought. Their voices were so carefree. Although the two rooms were next to each other, we may as well have been in separate universes.

D’Angelo leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. “Pyrenic isn’t a common poison. Very fast acting, but also hard to handle. Even getting just a little on your skin can have disastrous effects. Plus, it’s not naturally occurring. It must be manufactured in a lab, and there’s only a few places in the world capable of producing it.”

The Bianchi family specialized in drugs. In the past, their business had mainly focused on recreational drugs, but in recent years, they had branched out into medical drugs.

That would, of course, also include poisons.

I gave him a pointed look, which he immediately picked up on.

“Yes, two of the labs that produce pyrenic belong to my family,” D’Angelo admitted. “But whoever tried to poison you didn’t get it from us.”

I hadn’t actually thought D’Angelo was involved in the poisoning attempt, but it was good to hear it from the man’s mouth.

“I need a list of all the labs capable of producing this poison.”

D’Angelo didn’t say anything as he took a long sip of his drink.

The cheeky bastard.

If I hadn’t already expected such a response, I would have been annoyed.

“In exchange, I’ll owe you another favor.”

With a smug grin, D’Angelo set his drink back down, now almost completely empty. “Seeing as how you were doing me a favor in the first place, it feels like we’ve come full circle.”

“If it reveals a traitor among my people, I’ll consider this whole thing worthwhile.”

“Actually,” D’Angelo sat up quickly, his eyes glinting with a sudden idea. “I’m going to capitalize on that favor right now. Oliver’s friend who came with us. Ashes. I need you to hire them fulltime.”

“Sure,” I instantly agreed. “But why. That seems like a strange request. Is there something unusual about them?”

“They’re not involved with any criminal business, although they are aware of things. The problem is that they live in a run-down little shack of a workshop that isn’t nearly safe enough for Oliver to spend time in. But I don’t want to separate him from his friend. If you hire Ashes for me, then I know Oliver’s friend is ina safe place and I won’t have to worry about him every time he wants to visit.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but for a moment, jealousy pricked at me like an acupuncturist’s needle, painful but also therapeutic.

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