Page 6 of The Secrets We Keep

Working there was a risk, but one she needed to take. She didn’t anticipate running into anyone who might recognize her in the IT department. None of them had ever bothered to notice her before.

And as an extra precaution, she’d dyed her hair and gotten colored contacts. Plus, her documents were excellent fakes that didn’t come cheap. It was going to be fine. She’d have what she came for in three months or less. Hopefully less.

Sliding the notebooks onto the shelf in chronological order, she carried the clothes into her bedroom and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Before starting work, she’d have to go shopping for some office-appropriate outfits. Working from her tiny kitchen table in her little apartment outside of Berlin for the last two and a half years had spoiled her, but in the end, it would all be worth it.

Grabbing her list off the kitchen counter, she slid the strap of her purse over her head and stepped into the hallway, making sure the door was secure behind her. The elevator doors opened on an empty car, and she blew out a relieved breath. There were only three other apartments on this floor, and if she could manage it, she hoped to avoid meeting any neighbors.

The wind had a biting edge this close to the water; it would be too cold for short sleeves once November hit with a vengeance. The sun had slipped behind thick clouds, casting the sidewalk in shadows, and she turned right toward Gallo Industries. Today was as good a day as any to gauge how far she’d have to walk to get to work.

Following the crowd of people making their way to Catania’s business district, she ran a nervous hand through her hair the closer she drew to the ornate building. A revolving door led people into and out of the lobby, and she saw white marble floors through the glass walls.

Gallo Industries speared up out of the concrete and jutted into the sky, taller than the buildings on either side. Each floor was a different department, with IT on the second floor, the executives on the top, and things like accounting and HR sandwiched in between.

It was an easy walk, only a few blocks, and she could make it in about fifteen minutes, maybe twenty if she was wearing heels. She hadn’t worn heels in a long time. They weren’t very good for running.

Someone bumped her from behind, forcing her to turn with the flow of foot traffic, and she spotted them. Walking three abreast down the sidewalk with bodyguards in front and back, forcing people to move out of their way. Nero Gallo and his sons.

Why were they coming in the front? Shouldn’t they be coming in through the parking garage? That’s why she wanted to live close enough to walk. She didn’t want to risk running into them or anyone else who might know her in the confines of an underground concrete tomb.

She melted into the crowd, scooting behind a tall potted bush, and watched them move quickly through the people who scurried out of their way. Nero looked angry, Stefano looked attentive, and Dante looked annoyed. They hadn’t changed much at all.

Stefano jogged ahead of his father and held the door open, scowling at his younger brother when Dante darted in ahead of him. She counted to twenty before moving back onto the sidewalk, the knot in her belly loosening. They hadn’t seen her. But if they came in this way often, she’d have to rethink her plan.

Darting quickly past the front of the office building, she crossed the street and continued up the block. The scent of bacon and coffee hit her nose, and her stomach grumbled. She stopped short on the sidewalk, apologizing under her breath when someone ran into her back and slipped into the hotel.

She could use a good espresso. Germans didn’t understand coffee. Not the way Italians did. She’d had her first good cup of it in three years once she crossed the border from Austria and stopped for the night in Verona. The flavor was like heaven in her mouth. Full and rich and deep.

Her mouth watered at the thought. She’d make a quick stop for breakfast, then she’d get back to shopping and exploring.

Chapter Four

“Why are you pouting?” Luca asked, slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “He gave us exactly the response we were expecting.”

“I do not pout,” Matteo replied with the same tone their father would have used when insulted.

“Sulking, brooding. Whatever this”—Luca circled his finger in front of his brother’s face—“is. Did you want Gallo to come around or something?”

“Of course not. I wanted him to rise to the bait about Varda.”

“Why?” Luca frowned. “We already know he was gifting weapons to Varda in exchange for protection should we ever come after him. And since Dom got caught during their last exchange, Gallo likely knows we know. ”

“Because I still don’t know who his main supplier is. He bought the weapons he gave Varda from a guy in Belgium, according to my contact in Frankfurt, but it’s not where he gets the bulk of his product. Even if I destroy Gallo Industries, he can pivot quickly to weapons trafficking and amass another fortune in no time.”

“Can he?”

“Yes. Always someone in the Middle East looking for guns.”

Luca’s brows shot up. “Experience in funding terrorism, brother?”

“I have experience in a lot of things,” Matteo replied. “My point is, I don’t just want to sabotage his shipments. I want to know where the fuck Gallo might be getting his weapons from.”

“So you can cut him off at the knees.”

“And then shove him face first into the grave.”

Matteo’s phone rang, and he got up from the table to answer it. Luca rolled his eyes. His brother’s trust issues were a big fucking problem. He imagined they’d experience far fewer bumps in Matteo’s plan if he didn’t play all his cards so close to the vest.

It wasn’t like Luca, Dom, and Carina were the ones who’d run out on this family for nearly a decade. Carina had done what she could to keep the family going with her marriage to Giuseppe Romano, and she had the scars to prove it. Dom had more than stepped up, dealing with their father until his death while simultaneously handling the enforcement and security at the casinos, leading the men.

---