Page 100 of The Hitman's Secret Baby
He's staring into the grain of the desk, like it might offer him a way out of this conversation before it begins.
"Matteo," I say, closing the door behind me with a quiet click. Giovanni follows me in, silent, leaning against the far wall like he belongs to it. Matteo straightens in his seat. His hands flatten against the desk, fingers splayed wide. "Signore Moretti."
"You've just returned from Civita Rosso."
"Yes, sir."
"And you saw her."
A pause. Just long enough to be interesting.
"Not at first," he says. "I passed her twice. She was with the boy the first time. Buying figs from a stall near the church steps. I noticed the accent, not the face. The second time, she was alone, walking uphill with groceries. Something about her caught me, but I couldn't place it until later."
"Until when?" I ask, stepping forward. His jaw tenses. I let the silence drag.
"Until last night. I was looking over the manifests again. I kept revisiting my mind, and I—that profile…I'd seen it before. Years ago. At the dockyard. She was with you."
He gets up and takes out a photo from the front pocket of his shirt and hands it to me.
Looking down, I see a little boy first. Riotous curls, bright smile. And holding his hand is Aria, with the same head of hair, the same smile, her face freckled, and those sinful eyes glowing.
My heart clenches painfully.
He nods at the picture. "I combed through the city, every last contact, until I got this. It's her."
"And where is she living?"
Matteo glances toward the monitor, then opens a drawer and pulls out a folded sheet.
"It's a flat just east of the olive terraces. Top floor, second balcony. Bougainvillea on the railing. I didn't approach. I swear it."
I reach across and take the paper.
Giovanni hasn't moved, but I feel him watching me.
Watching Matteo.
Watching everything.
"Anything else I should know?" I ask, keeping my voice low. "Other sightings? Movements?"
Matteo hesitates.
"There's something strange happening down there. Not just her. There's chatter about increased security near the docks. More customs eyes, fewer local hands. And…a rumor."
Giovanni's body shifts slightly against the wall. I don't look at him.
"What kind of rumor?"
Matteo clears his throat.
"People are saying Luca's grip is slipping. That the family isn't as strong as it once was. That the queen runs the halls, and the Don watches from a throne that's grown cold."
Giovanni pushes off the wall. His shoes scuff the floor just enough to make Matteo flinch.
I study Matteo's face. He believes the words he's repeating. That's what makes them dangerous.
"Where did you hear this?" I ask.
