Page 215 of Ricardo

“You have food?”

I shrug. “Probably.”

His look says he doubts that.

“I have crackers.”

“That is not food.”

“It is food adjacent.”

His mouth almost tilts into a smile.

Almost. But not quite.

Then he reaches for his phone. “I’ll have something sent.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m hungry. Three mini courses do not count as dinner.”

I look at him, then away.

That means he plans to stay. In the apartment, with me. Not just outside somewhere until Ricardo gets here.

The car makes the last turn onto my street, and my building comes into view ahead, warm light spilling over the sidewalk beneath the awning. Dante shifts beside me, already scanning the curb, the parked cars, the lobby doors.

Whatever softness the conversation opened between us folds back beneath focus and duty.

The car pulls up in front of my building and stops.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Ricardo

The moment the car with Julia and Dante pulls away, I shift gears. Duty calls, and the sooner I perform it, the sooner I can get back to her.

The gala continues in the ballroom as I sneak back into the hotel, unnoticed.

Tomasso waits at the mouth of the service corridor with his phone in one hand and his tuxedo jacket still buttoned, looking for all the world like a bored young man just stepping out for a second. Anyone passing would see nothing. No urgency. No alarm. No reason to look twice.

That is the first rule: Never give anyone a reason to remember anything unusual.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Near the civic development tables,” Tomasso says. “Still circulating. Edoardo has the east exit covered. Alessio is at the staff corridor. Matteo has the lower level and garage.”

“Hotel security?”

“Ours has the better feed now.”

I glance at him.

His mouth curves slightly. “Copied and redirected. The hotel still sees what it expects to see.”

Good.

Men like Evan Rusk survive because they understand appearances. A hand placed on his arm becomes story. A guest escorted through a crowded room becomes rumor. A raised voice attracts witnesses.