Page 33 of The Fixer

His eyebrow creeps up. “Your city? I wonder what Antonio Moretti would think of your claim.”

“Do you see the padrino here? No, you don’t.” Both Antonio and Dante are away from Venice, something Max undoubtedly knows. Antonio and Lucia are in Paris, stealing a painting from a private collector, and Dante, Valentina, and Angelica are camping near Lake Como. “You waited until he wasaway to sneak into Venice.” I put some menace into my voice. “Tell me why.”

Guerra laughs in my face. “Come on, Leo. If I wanted to sneak into Venice, why would I visit your headquarters? I need to talk to you.” He looks at Goran. “Alone.”

“No.”

His expression turns frustrated. “Why the fuck not?”

“Because I have no reason to trust you or anyone else from Spina Sacra.”

“Ah.” He rests his hands on the steel table. “Then you’ll be delighted to hear I don’t work for them.” He undoes his cuffs, rolls up his sleeves, and holds his forearms out so I can see his markings. No Spina Sacra tattoos. Not that it means anything. Guerra is a spy of some kind. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to cover himself in identifiable tattoos.

“Who do you work for?”

I don’t expect him to answer, but he does. “Ciro Del Barba.”

I bite off a curse. Behind me, Goran stiffens. If the Kingmaker is involved, things are going to get very messy, very quickly.

I get to my feet. “Check him for the mark,” I tell Goran. “I need to make a call.”

“Leo Cesari,”Del Barba says. “I thought I’d be hearing from you. Yes, Guerra works for me.”

I massage my temples. “What the fuck is going on, Ciro?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Simplify it for me.”

“Guerra needs to talk to Hugh Tran.”

“No,” I say flatly. “No, he doesn’t. Rosa Tran is my fiancée. Nobody touches her family. Not even you.”

“You owe me a favor.”

I open my mouth and shut it. When Angelica was kidnapped this past January, her abductor used an aerosol sedative to put her under. I needed its chemical composition analyzed in a hurry, and it was Ciro’s lab that did the work.

Del Barba is a fucking spider who sits in his web in Milan, spinning plots and collecting favors until his prey lands in front of him.

“Guerra isn’t there to bust your fake marriage,” Del Barba continues. “And he isn’t there to hurt Hugh Tran. He just wants to talk to him.”

“About what?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Goddamn it, Ciro.”

There’s a long moment of silence. “This isn’t about the ten million that Hugh Tran stole,” he says finally. “I don’t care about that. Guerra is looking for someone, and Tran is the key to finding them. He won’t hurt Tran or the family. You have my word. I will personally guarantee their safety.”

“You’re sure Hugh stole from Spina Sacra?”

“Yes.”

My heart sinks. Del Barba has the best information network in the country. If he’s sure, then there isn’t any doubt that Hugh took the money. I don’t care about the ten million euros—I’ll pay Antonio back, but why did he do it? Only an idiot would steal from the Mafia. Rosa’s brother might be reckless, but he didn’t strike me as stupid.

“The padrino is going to have some questions.”

“I’ll talk to Antonio,” Del Barba replies. “Dante, too. Do we have a deal?”

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