Page 80 of Lorenzo

“Look, Lorenzo,” I say. “I agreed to call you when I found Rachel. I did not agree to inform you of every single move I make. That is a hindrance. I can't do my job properly if I'm stopping every hour to give you an update.”

“You do not need to call me every hour,” he says. “Only before you put yourself in danger on my behalf.”

I waved him away. “I peeled some tape off a door.”

“And how did you manage to enter the hotel room at the Halston?”

Well, he's got me on that one.

Instead I say, “I can assess my own risk.”

“I am sure you can.”

“That sounded almost sincere.”

“It was.”

I study him. “Then trust me to do my job.”

“I trust your ability.” His gaze holds mine. “I do not trust the people you are hunting.”

I turn toward him fully and hold his eyes so he knows I’m not just waving this off despite my earlier attitude.

“I’ve hunted worse,” I say. “I know what I'm doing, and I'm not careless. I value my life.”

“And how is it you came to be doing that?” he asks softly.

I'm not going into my past, here on the street, with Lorenzo Conti.

“Your retainer doesn't entitle you to that story.”

His mouth shifts, considering me. “Everything has a price with you.”

“Not this,” I say, making sure he knows I'm not joking now.

My past is off limits.

He studies me for another moment, then gives a slow nod.

“Understood.”

I reach for the car door. “I’ll give you an update once a day and if I find anything significant. That's the best I can do.”

“Very well,” he says.

He backs up a step as I get in my car. When I drive off, he's standing in the middle of the street, watching me, a figure in black.

Chapter Eleven

Lorenzo

Sunday dinner at Mario’s house is usually loud enough that it resembles a wall of noise.

Tonight, everyone keeps looking toward Alessio.

The table is crowded with platters of roasted chicken, bowls of rigatoni in a rich tomato sauce, rosemary potatoes, green beans, bread still warm from the oven, and enough food to feed twice the number of people seated around it.

Victoria sits beside Mario with Leonardo against her shoulder, one hand resting across the baby’s back while he sleeps. Ricardo is on Mario’s other side with Cecilia cradled in the crook of his arm, Julia beside him. Dante sits near his father. Matteo and Tomasso are across from each other, as they usually are. Diego has taken the seat at the end closest to the wine.