Page 103 of Corrado

That woman was trouble.

Why, or for what reason, or even how … Corrado didn’t know those things, but he knew this. He could tell already, one week into watching Ginevra, that she was going to be an issue for him. For more reasons than he cared to admit, if he were being honest. Sometimes, Corrado just got a feeling about something or someone, and he was rarely wrong.

He’d had that same feeling about The League.

Or Alessio.

Different jobs.

He didn’t ignore it now.

“It’s for that favor, right?” Alessio asked. “Andino Marcello?”

Corrado cleared his throat and forced himself to avert his eyes from the figure across the hall. As it was, the guilt had already started to compound in his chest. “Yeah, that’s what it is.”

“And you still can’t tell me what it is?”

“Not really. I gave my word, that’s all.”

Although, Corrado was starting to think that was probably a lame fucking excuse. There was no one he trusted more than Alessio. Life had taught him that, and Alessio only proved it time and time again.

He could, at the very least, explain the gist of the job, and the fact that he had a woman here with him. Except, then he was wading into dangerous fucking territory with that—he would still be omitting important details to Alessio.

Like his interest in her.

The attraction.

So, no.

Corrado refused to say anything.

Because he didn’t plan to act on it.

None of it.

Simple.

Or that was the lie he was going to tell himself. He’d fucked up here. From the moment Ginevra got inside his car at that church, the first thing Corrado should have done the second he could was call Alessio.

Been honest.

Gave every detail.

But he didn’t.

And now here he was, a week into this thing … and he was just digging the hole deeper. It wouldn’t be as simple, now. He couldn’t just tell Alessio the truth, and the man shrug it off. That wasn’t how they worked.

That’s not how their thing worked.

The fact that he didn’t tell Alessio from the start would be a nail in the coffin. Corrado didn’t need confirmation from Alessio to know it was true—it was their goddamn rule. Except he hadn’t done anything, and as long as he continued on that path, then there was nothing to tell.

Right?

Yeah.

The guilt compounded deeper.

Fuck.