Page 86 of Forging Caine

“Of course. I’m a man of my word.” Fiori placed one hand over his heart. “I swear I will only ask you to authenticate four paintings, then we’ll be done with each other. So long as you keep this work secret until your grave, then I won’t have to collect any other price.”

“And if we decline?” asked Antonio, clutching his glass.

Why bother asking? There was no chance Fiori was letting us go so easily, after how much he’d risked bringing us here. The brazen kidnapping was one more show of his power. No doubt we were on the Canadian side of the lake already, to make it harder for the American authorities to pursue him. Add to that any delay from state forces having to coordinate—now that we were out of Michigan—and throw in the FBI angle.

Fiori was too smart. Too calculating. He’d have an army of lawyers that could tie up any warrant.

No, the only option for us was to go along with him and survive. Maybe I could figure out some way to collect the evidence we needed while keeping everyone safe.

Fiori grinned, like a man who knew he’d won. “You won’t decline.”

“Scusi?”

“Ms. Caine wants to know what I have and her curiosity is too great for her to choose to leave.” He inclined his head toward me. “I admire a woman with that kind of drive, despite the circumstances.”

“You want me to be honest, Pasquale?” I clutched my hands in front of me, letting them tremble so he could see. “Part of me didn’t believe you’d hurt any of us. It was little more than a game I thought I could win with the recording, but you proved me wrong. I don’t want to go along with what you’re asking, but I will.”

Antonio looked down at me, the corners of his eyes pinched. Did he understand what I was doing?

Fiori knew I’d been lying all along, and he would continue escalating until he broke me. My only option was to appear broken. Not clueless about art, not arm candy. Smart, but broken. Defeated.

“Where are the paintings?” I slipped an arm around Antonio’s waist to pretend I was hiding the tremble.

Baptiste stood with a yawn. “Finally. Can I go eat now?”

“Sit down and learn something, boy,” Fiori snapped. He turned to Antonio and took a slow breath. “Is your father proud of you?”

Antonio’s brow furrowed. “Sì.”

“Keep it that way.” He sipped his wine, closing his eyes as he swirled it in his mouth before swallowing.

Two uniformed men appeared from a staircase at the back. “Dinner is ready to be served, signore.”

“I’ll take it up here.” Fiori beckoned to Bodyguard One, who lumbered toward us. “See them to their room. I’ll have some food sent down.”

The bodyguard nodded and gestured toward the stairs.

Fiori called over his shoulder as he and Baptiste walked toward a table at the back of the room. “The paintings are in one of my homes, where I have all the tools you could possibly need. Jason will fly us there tomorrow morning.”

Chapter 28

Antonio

Samanthamarchedintotheroom ahead of me—the surprisingly clean and orderly room, which must have had staff go through it—steam practically rising off her head. Before she reached the bed, she spun to face me. “Tell me the truth. How’s your arm doing?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Liar.” She blew out a sharp breath. “If we jumped overboard, would you be able to swim to shore?”

I couldn’t have heard that right. “Miscusi, but do you mean could I reach the shore, which is miles away, while outpacing their rib boats and possibly gunfire? Are you seriously asking me that?”

She turned again and continued stomping toward the window, tracing the same pattern I’d followed for hours. “That’s only if they knew we’d gone over. And he seemed fine with the idea ofthrowingus over without going after us, so maybe they wouldn’t care.”

I grabbed her by the arms and turned her to face me. “Bella, that was a threat, not him being alright with us jumping.”

“Fine.” She clenched her fists and teeth. “Maybe that’s not the best plan I’ve ever had.”

“I thought your plan was for us to go along with him and wait for our opportunity?”

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