Page 126 of Gin & Trouble

An hour later, Dante and I sat in the backseat of an armored car winding its way up the steep road to the estate. The higher we climbed, the faster my pulse raced until I found it difficult to catch my breath.

Dante squeezed my hand. “The plan is going to work.”

“But if it doesn’t, promise me you’ll get the hell out of there.”

“No.” He shifted to face me. “We’re walking out of there together. Do you hear me? There is no way I’m leaving you behind.”

I should have known better than to ask, but I had to try. I’d rather submit myself to an arranged marriage then see Dante hurt, or worse.

As per Marco’s instructions, the driver parked on the east side of the property near the entrance to the Marchionni’s private rooms. Despite the fact a wedding was scheduled to begin in an hour or so, the estate was deserted.

I leaned closer to the tinted glass to get a better view of the courtyard. “I hope there are more people on the other side of the estate. Marco needs at least three of the five members to vote.”

“They’ll be here, but it’s Christmas. I can’t imagine any of the family members wanted to come.”

“You’re right.” Movement caught my eye near the other side of the fountain.

A dark-haired woman seated herself on a bench with her back to the building. I couldn’t make out her features from the car, but I didn’t think she was one of my sisters. One, she was too short, and two, her dress was a hideous shade of dog puke brown.

Dante followed my gaze. “Is she an Abruzzo?”

“No. My sisters would never be caught dead in such a color.”

A few moments later, a man in the black fatigues of a security guard joined her. The two embraced and engaged in a lengthy kiss.

“She probably works here.” I sighed and sat back.

Dante continued to watch the couple. “They’re coming this way.”

“What? Crap. Should we get down?” I glanced from him to the floor and back.

“It’s fine. They went inside,” he half-growled, half-whispered.

I glanced back to the couple, but they’d gone. “What’s wrong? Did you recognize them?”

“I’m pretty sure that was the same guy who was in your house…”

I wanted to roll my eyes and point out that security guards all had the same look, but the hard set of his jaw stopped me. “Did Marco let him go?”

“He must have.” Dante frowned. “Frankie, that woman… It was Iris.”

“Iris Rogers? From New Orleans?”

His expression grew more serious by the second. “That’s the one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What would she…” My mind went blank, then flashed with too many memories too quickly—like an avalanche of thoughts all rolling downhill to one logical conclusion. “She’s the rat. She’s the one who’s been feeding Tommaso information.”

Nausea rolled through me, followed by a case of the shakes.

Iris was my friend. I trusted her. Told her about the DNA test. Sure, I hadn’t mentioned names, but if she knew who I was, she would have put it together.

“I told her I was going for Alicudi. I told her I was meeting Giancarlo.” Bile rose in my throat and the space in the car seemed to shrink. “I’m going to be sick.”

Dante grabbed my shoulders and ducked his head so that his face was in my line of vision. “Breathe. In and out. Nice and slow.”

Nodding, I tried to follow instructions, but I sucked in too much air and couldn’t seem to exhale it.

The driver’s phone chirped. “Sir, Mr. Marchionni’s security team is on the way. He says you’re needed in the meeting.”

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