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“Gio plus you.”
I sip the scotch. “When we came, we disrupted the flow of trafficking. I’d look there first.” Before I arrived, my people had already gone through all of Gio’s files and finances. There’s nothing there that would’ve told us about this attempt. “Gio was supposed to skip town last night.”
Corrado tilts his head. “How do you know this?”
I jerk my head toward the bedroom. “Cristina told me.”
“It’s a little unusual that she’s so open with you about Gio, don’t you think?”
“It’s the fear. She wants to prove she’s innocent of any wrongdoing.”
“I don’t believe her,” Corrado says, ever the skeptic.
“Then you’ve learned nothing from your benevolent wife.”
“My wife is an angel.” He smiles, all full of himself for snatching a trophy wife. She’s pretty, I’ll give him that.
Speaking of angels (or devils), the door opens, and Cristina walks out, wearing another one of my shirts. Since she’s five and a few inches to my six foot five, the shirt looks like a dress on her. Barefoot, she lingers by the door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb.”
“It’s good timing,” Corrado says. “Come here.”
My instincts prickle at how he’s commanding her.
When she approaches, she looks around for a place to sit. I open my mouth to tell her she can sit at the foot of my bed, but Corrado scoots over on the love seat. He taps the empty space next to him while watching me.
My mask holds as Cristina, reluctantly, sits down.
“Do you want some coffee?” he asks her, a picture of politeness.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think I should have caffeine.”
“Water?” he probes.
I suppress an eye roll.
“No, thank you.” She sits as far away as possible from Corrado and scratches the fresh dressing over her tattoo. I’m happy to see she’s listening to Gordon and is taking care of her Order marking.
Corrado’s gaze follows her movement. “You could’ve shown me the tattoo before covering it.”
“I was naked in the bathroom, suffering from the aftershocks of being shot at, so excuse me for not thinking about the stupid tattoo.”
I smile wide.
Corrado narrows his eyes. “Listen here, little girl. You’ll show?—”
“Corrado,” I interrupt him. “Who are you talking to?”
Corrado leans back, smirking. He downs his whiskey. He got me. I couldn’t stand how he spoke to her. If she was nobody to me, I wouldn’t give her the time of day.
My brother senses something about me is different when it comes to her, but I don’t want him or anyone else ever knowing what. The game of deception is more challenging to play with Corrado, who knows most of my moves. Hence, he dangled the bait, bringing her near him after a bath and provoking me by being rude. I took his bait.
Before I get a chance to circle around this conversation, Cristina answers. “I can handle rude men. I don’t need a babysitter.”
Corrado chuckles. “You’re feisty. Like a kitten.”
I need him gone. “When is your flight?” I ask again.
“I’ll make arrangements as soon as you recover.”
