21. Follow the White Rabbit
21
FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT
LUCIANO
L uciano was concerned for Simone, but he needed to play this one chill. She was being hunted by The Bomb Maker and her denial was blinding her to the harsh reality. As long as they were together, he would keep her safe.
In his bedroom, she stripped him bare, directed him to lie face down on his king-sized bed. She removed her pants, then her shirt and camisole, leaving her in a lace bra and panties. She climbed onto his back, drizzled oil into her hands, and pressed her warm palms against his back.
Her touch was soft, but the pressure firmer than he’d expected. She ran her fingers across his shoulders, slowly.
“Wow, you’re tight,” she murmured.
When she switched to using her knuckles, the pressure intensified. “Breathe,” she said and he inhaled through the discomfort.
One knot at a time, she worked his shoulders before pausing for more oil. Her hands felt like a gift from the gods. Yes, he’d paid for massages, but he’d never received one as a gift.
Despite the late hour—it was almost three in the morning—he didn’t object. This was her loving him, and he was grateful. As she worked out the tension in his shoulder blades, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing.
How did The Bomb Maker know she was offered the case? How did he know she’d taken it? And if he had access to that, finding her home address had been easy.
“Deep breath,” she murmured.
He inhaled and she dug her knuckle into an especially painful spot on his lower back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Doing great,” she replied. “How’s the pressure?”
“Perfect, like you.” He craned his neck so he could see her. Her sweet smile was the medicine his vengeful soul needed.
He laid his head on the pillow, tried to stop himself from obsessing over the case, but he couldn’t.
“Guy Chenkus got the false passport info from Cary Newburg,” Luciano began. “Newburg has to be getting his information from someone. Is that person working with someone in the Haqazzii terror cell or is there a go-between? How big is this network?”
She dipped down and kissed his cheek. “Turn your head the other way, so your neck doesn’t get stiff.”
After he did, she rubbed his traps before massaging his glutes. “That feels amazing. You’ve got the hands of a goddess.”
“All for you,” she murmured and started rubbing the back of his thigh. “You’ve got a great butt. Very muscular. Great legs too.”
“Thank you, baby.”
“I love that.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m your baby. My heart is happy, but the anger is consuming me.”
“That’s good. We’re going to need it when we unleash it on the devil.”
She grew silent.
“Simone?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think there’s a crime ring in the government?” he asked.
She stilled for a few seconds before resuming her rubbing. “When you put it like that, yeah, it’s possible.”
“How far up do you think it goes?”
“Far enough so that these terrorists are sailing into the country with real passports and believable aliases.”
“What’s the connection between them and The Bomb Maker?” he asked.
“No shop talk. Try to relax.”
Relax? I never relax.
He continued running through questions without answers, trying to follow an invisible trail that led to the guilty.
The massage continued for much longer than he’d anticipated. He figured she’d rub him for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. When she got off him and told him to roll onto his back, he glanced at the time. She’d been at it for over forty-five minutes.
She was laser-focused on whatever area she was working on. While rubbing his biceps, her eyebrows pinched together, then she’d spend a few seconds chewing on the inside of her cheek. Was she thinking about this case… a case with no viable suspects who was taunting law enforcement and hiding in plain sight?
“Talk to me about Jerod,” Luciano said.
“He and I worked a few cases when I was with the Bureau and he was an agent with ATF. We got along well, became work friends. I saw him at Peter’s dinner party. We had lunch at Rudy’s?—”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“I told him I was the agent who went after The Bomb Maker and lived.” Her gaze found his. “You’re not thinking?—”
“Check him,” he replied. “He looked familiar, but I’d never met him before tonight.”
“I’ll see what I can find.” Simone finished by caressing his foot. “I hope you liked your little massage.”
“Thank you. That was amazing.” He patted the mattress next to him. “Sleep, Simone. We’ve got time for a nap.”
“Not yet,” she said. “Now, you get a happy ending.”
A bolt of heat shot through him. “You’re taking very good care of me.”
“You’re keeping me alive. I’m keeping you happy.” She smiled. “Sounds perfect to me.” Straddling him, she stroked his shaft with her lubricated fingers. A tender touch to jump-start his engine. Back and forth she rubbed before leaning down and, on a loan ardent moan, she took him inside her mouth.
Her warm, talented mouth.
His insides roared to life, his attention pinned on her abilities. He loved how she stroked his shaft while running her tongue over the head. Jolt after jolt of electricity thrummed through him, while her whisper-soft moans urged him onward.
Slowly, she pulled off, and with half-hooded eyes, murmured, “You taste good.”
The ache in her voice turned him harder, the excitement whipped through him in a torrent of energy. Then, she was back on him, devouring him with greed while she massaged his balls and raked her lips over his cock.
Up and down, she took him into her mouth, ran her skilled tongue over him, then licked him like a popsicle. Her blowjobs turned him wild with need as he raced toward a climax.
His groans meshed with the garbled sounds coming from her as she quickened her pace. Her hand tightened around his hardness while she pumped him again and again. Then, she pressed him in until he vanished inside her mouth, but when he hit the back of her throat, the orgasm took hold.
“Fuck, Simone, I’m gonna come.”
While fondling his balls, she raked her teeth over his shaft while flicking her tongue across the head, her guttural groans launching him over the edge.
On a groan, the orgasm shot out of him, glorious waves of ecstasy pounding through him. In those seconds, every broken piece of him became whole… and healed. Life was perfect and simple. There was nothing but blinding white goodness.
Until it was over, and the darkness began to seep in.
She slunk out of bed and vanished into the bathroom, returning shortly wearing nothing at all. She crawled in beside him, pulled up the linens, and snuggled close.
He pulled her onto him. Large pupils blown with lust peered into his eyes. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he murmured before kissing her.
Her kiss was passionate… and loving. In their embrace, he felt the power of her love. The strength of what she could bring to his life. He was so used to taking care of everyone, allowing someone to take care of him felt foreign.
But also fantastic.
“Thank you for becoming such an important person in my life,” she whispered. “Thank you for allowing me to be me. Damaged, vengeful me.”
“I got you,” he murmured.
They shared another kiss.
“I got you too,” she replied.
SIMONE
At seven-thirty that morning, Stuart parked the Range Rover in Simone’s driveway. She, Luciano, and Stuart made their way toward the front door. All three were armed. All three wore Kevlar protection.
“Here comes a neighbor,” Luciano murmured.
Simone turned, painted on a friendly smile and waved. “Hello, Lorraine.”
“Simone.” Lorraine hurried over, still wearing her bathrobe. “What happened? Is everything okay?”
“All good,” Simone said. “Someone left a note on my front door that turned out to be a hoax.”
Lorraine’s eyes widened. “Yikes. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Did you see anyone before the team showed up in the middle of the night?” Simone asked.
“No, but I talked to the man in charge. His name is Tank—” She broke into a broad smile—“and he looked like one. Anyway, I forwarded my videos to him. I had several dings last night, but didn’t pay any attention. It’s usually just a deer in my yard.”
“Thanks for helping,” Simone said before she hurried onto the front porch where Luciano and Stuart waited.
Teddy had taken the BOOM sign to dust for prints, but Luciano doubted they’d find any. This was a simple job that would take a complete fuck-up to screw up. The Bomb Maker was not that. He was skilled, cunning, and one step ahead of them, leading them down the rabbit hole to the depths of hell.
After clearing the first floor, they went upstairs. While Stuart cleared the second floor, Simone retreated into the bathroom to change into fresh clothes. After she packed two suitcases, Luciano and Stuart carried them downstairs. As Stuart loaded the suitcases into the Range Rover, Luciano’s phone pinged.
He opened the tracking app. “Newburg is on the move.”
He showed Simone. “Looks like he’s going to work,” she said.
Into the car they went.
“Are we headed to your company?” she asked.
“We’re going to Springfield.”
“What’s there?” she asked.
“A chemical supply company run by Igor Stachko. He supplies materials to bomb enthusiasts.”
“Nice. How’d you get his name?”
“From Carlo Garibaldi.”
“The head of the Garibaldi crime family?”
“We were rivals. After I left, we became close.”
Simone wasn’t going to ask any more questions. Sometimes less was more, especially when it came to her criminal boyfriend.
Luciano’s phone rang, he answered. A work-related problem that snagged his attention allowed Simone to review the notes she’d made on her phone. Thirty-minutes later, Stuart drove into an industrial section of Springfield, pulled into a lot and parked. They made their way toward Stachko Chemical Supply Company.
As soon as Stuart opened the door, the stench of chemicals made her grimace. The pungent odor aside, she couldn’t wait to see Luciano in action. How would he get Mr. Stachko to talk?
Luciano smiled at the receptionist. “I’m looking for Mr. Stachko.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Do I need one?” Luciano replied.
The woman glanced at Simone. “Did you make an appointment?” Her haughty attitude caught Simone by surprise.
What a B.
“This is my boss, Joelle James,” Luciano said.
The woman swallowed. “Sorry.” She rose. “Let me check with Igor. What’s your name?”
“Malvagio Peccatore.”
She hurried off and Luciano murmured, “How am I doing, boss?”
“Smooth, charming.” Simone shot him a little smile. “Perfect.” Then, she turned toward him, lowered her head, and whispered, “Cameras everywhere.”
“Saw them.”
A small man with spindly arms and wire-framed glasses too big for his narrow face joined them. He glanced at Simone, then at Stuart, settling on Luciano. “What can I help you with?”
“I have a business proposition for you, Mr. Stachko,” Luciano said.
“’Bout what?”
“I don’t conduct business in a lobby,” Luciano said. “Do you have five minutes?”
“Yeah, sure, c’mon back.” Igor led them into his office, which had a thick layer of dirt on any surface that wasn’t cluttered with papers, old paper cups, and bottles of chemicals. He sat behind his desk, gestured to the two chairs.
“Is he your bodyguard?” Igor asked of Stuart.
As Luciano sat, he said, “Yes, he’s a member of my security detail.”
“What can I do for you, Mr…”
“Malvagio Peccatore. I need information.” The tone in Luciano’s voice had changed from a charming lilt to a harsh staccato.
Stuart shut Igor’s office door.
Igor narrowed his gaze at Luciano. “I sell chemical supplies. That’s the business I’m in.”
“You’re working with The Bomb Maker,” Luciano said. “Who is he?”
Igor shifted in his chair.
Stuart pulled his Glock. “Don’t open that drawer,” Stuart growled.
“Ah, fuck,” Igor bleated. “I don’t need no trouble.” He shifted his attention to Luciano. “Look Mr. Pecker, he never told me his name, but I’m sure if he did, it wouldn’t be real. You know what I mean?”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Luciano asked.
Igor glanced up at Stuart, his weapon still drawn. “A few weeks ago. Maybe a month. He paid in cash?—”
“How much?”
“A quarter of a mil. Said he’d be back for more and I should expect the same large order.”
“Does he come alone?”
“Yup.”
“What does he look like?”
Igor leaned back and his chair squawked on its old hinges. “Now, Mr. Pecker, that’s gonna cost you. I don’t give that kinda information away for nothing. I run a business.”
“I can call Carlo Garibaldi or I can call the FBI. Either way, you’ll have unfriendly visitors on your doorstep in hours. One would slit your throat, the other would arrest you.”
“Ah, crap,” Igor mumbled.
Luciano walked around the desk, yanked Igor out of his chair, and shoved him against the back wall. “What does he look like?” he growled.
“Dark hair to about here—” Igor touched his shoulder. “Sharp dresser. Real nice clothes. He was tan, but it didn’t look legit. Maybe he wore makeup ‘cause his face was kinda orange.”
Luciano released his hold, but he didn’t step away. “Did you see his car?”
“He had a truck, you know, for supplies.”
“Who loaded everything?”
“He did, but I helped him, a little.”
“Any tats? Piercings?” Luciano raked his hand through his hair.
“None that I saw, but he was—wait, yeah, he had this super flashy pinky ring. Lotsa diamonds and the band was a pink color. He kept playing with it, you know, spinning it around, and it caught my eye. How ‘bout you give me your number and I’ll let you know when he swings by?”
“Did he call you?”
“No, he showed up, like you.” Igor tried to smile, but he looked like he’d shit his pants. “Look, Mr. Pecker, I don’t want you to call anyone. I told you what I know, ‘kay?
Luciano glared at Igor. “If you supply him with any more bomb-making materials, you’re a dead man. Capiche?”
Visibly shaking, Igor hugged himself. “Sounds like I’m a dead man either way.”
“Remember what I said.” Luciano opened the door, waited for Simone to exit, then followed with Stuart close behind.
They got in the vehicle, and Stuart drove out of the lot. “That was good, boss,” he said.
“I went easy on him.”
“We need to get this guy off the street,” Simone said. “And pull him in for questioning.”
“I know who The Bomb Maker is,” Luciano said, a sly smile temping his lips upward.
She stared at him for a few seconds. “From that description?”
“My cousin introduced me to someone named Dante who wanted a mil in boodle. I refused him, twice. Time to let Dante know I’m ready to do business.”
“How do you know Dante is The Bomb Maker?”
“He wore a rose gold pinky ring loaded with diamonds,” Luciano said, “and he fiddled with it during our meeting.”
Simone nodded. “Finally, a break. Now , you’re being helpful.”
He and Stuart laughed out loud.
Stuart gained speed on the entrance ramp to the beltway.
After a moment, Simone asked, “Where’d you get the name Malvagio Peccatore?”
“From Sin.” Luciano showed her his FBI badge. “It’s Italian for Wicked Sinner.”
She laughed. “Mygod, that’s perfect.”
Luciano made a call, kept it on speaker.
“Hey, Lulu,” Willie Boy answered. “What’s happenin’, fratello?”
“I need Dante’s number.”
“What for?”
“I changed my mind about doing business with him. You trust him, so I trust him.”
“That’s great! I’ll let him know.”
“Text him now. I’ll wait.”
“He shows up when he needs somethin’.”
“Willie Boy, you run a business,” Luciano bit out. “Why don’t have his number?”
“He’s discreet. I don’t push.”
“Maybe if you did, you’d be a respected boss.”
“Fuck you.”
“There’s twenty G’s in it for you,” Luciano said, the bite in his voice replaced with the charm Simone had come to appreciate.
“I don’t want boodle.”
“Twenty legit , Willie Boy. But you gotta set up a meeting for tomorrow. If not, the deal’s off.”
“Christ, why do you have to be such a dick?”
Luciano cracked a smile. “Make it happen.” He hung up, regarded Simone. “If Willie Boy doesn’t come through, I’ll put the heat on Newburg. Either he ordered the hit on Guy Chenkus or he knows who did. I’m out of patience.”
Simone couldn’t agree more.
Later that afternoon, while squirreled away in Luciano’s office, Simone was reading through posts in a private chat group on the dark web. Luciano had accessed several groups that supported terrorism. Some were haters of democracy, others were disrupters—anarchist groups and conspiracy theorists.
As she was reading, one comment caught her eye. “Who loves creating chaos and destruction?” It was authored by Inferno531.
Several members of the group had responded, but it was Inferno531’s response that prompted her to say, “Luciano, come check this out.”
He stood behind her, his charisma and essence filling the small space. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled aside her hair, and kissed her ear.
“What did you find?” The irresistible timbre of his voice, paired with his warm lips pressed against her skin, sent a frisson of delight racing through her.
She swiveled toward him, placed her hands on his cheeks, and kissed him. “Hi.” She kissed him again. “I found two comments by Inferno531.” She read the first comment to him, “‘Who loves creating chaos and destruction?’ and his response, “I’m going to create terror in America that will be remembered for centuries. It’s a project of epic proportion and I’m working day and night to make it happen. Get ready, ‘cause here I come.’”
Simone started typing in the chat. “I want in. I want to be a part of a history where America gets crippled to its knees. No, its ass. LOL!”
“Nice,” Luciano said.
“He’s never responded to anyone,” Simone said. “He just rants and posts threats, but I’ve gotta try.” She hit, Post Comment. Seconds later, her post went live in the group under Luciano’s group name, TheDevil.
Luciano’s phone rang. He answered. “Santini.”
“Don’t you see it’s me calling?” Teddy asked, his booming voice filling the room.
“I was talking to Simone and?—”
“With gaga eyes?”
Simone laughed. “I’m not sure I’d use that to describe your brother.”
“He’s pussy whipped.”
Luciano smiled. “There’s a lady here, Theodore.”
“Yeah, the one who’s got you whipped.”
Again, Simone laughed. “Thank you, Teddy. That was perfect.”
“Rough afternoon?”
“Slow going,” she replied.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Teddy said. “Which first?”
“You decide,” Luciano replied.
“Bad news first. I couldn’t lift a print from the sign on Simone’s front door. He wasn’t wearing gloves, but I got nothing.”
“Dammit,” Luciano bit out.
“Here’s the good news,” Teddy continued. “I got a hit from your surveillance cam, created pics, and enlarged them. I’m sending everything your way.”
They sat side-by-side at Luciano’s desk. Seconds later, the encrypted emails came over. He started the video.
A man with shoulder-length, dark hair and sunglasses walked into frame. He strode to Simone’s front door, pressed the piece of paper against it, hurried down the driveway, and vanished out of frame. Luciano opened the enlarged still shots.
“Check out his right pinky,” Teddy said.
“Flashy pavé diamond,” Simone added.
“Son of a bitch,” Luciano growled. “It’s Dante.”
“The one who bought the supplies from Igor?” Simone asked. “And wants to do business with you?”
“That’s the one,” Luciano said.
“And that’s why I get paid the big bucks,” Teddy said.
“Nice work,” Luciano said. “I met him at Willie Boy’s, but Willie Boy says he doesn’t have a way to contact him.”
“He probably doesn’t,” Teddy said. “I have more business acumen in my other head than he does?—”
Simone laughed. “Good one.”
“I like you, Simone,” Teddy said. “You laugh at all my jokes.”
“We need to find Dante,” Luciano said.
“Why don’t you and Teddy put pressure on Cary Newburg?” Simone asked. “Santini style.”
“She’s catching on,” Teddy said.
“She sure as hell is,” Luciano replied.
“Watch your six, yeah?” Teddy said.
“Absolutely.” Simone pushed out of her chair. “Luciano, do you still have the indoor pool and gym in the lower level?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to work out before dinner.”
“Simone,” Teddy said.
“Yeah.”
“Lulu’s gonna be your shadow.”
“Thanks for the heads up. What should I do about it?”
“Nothing you can do,” Teddy replied. “When my brother sets his mind on something, it’s a done deal.”
At the doorway, she turned back. Luciano winked. “I’ll meet you in the gym.”
Up the stairs she went. Earlier, Stuart had brought her luggage into her old bedroom. The décor had been updated, but not the furniture.A comforting familiarity washed over her.
She changed into her swimsuit, threw on sweats, and hurried to the lower level. After a good run on the treadmill, she did a quick circuit with a few weights, then headed to the pool. Colton had one rule. Never swim alone. So they didn’t. As she contemplated whether she should venture into the water, the door opened and Luciano entered.
And all the air got sucked from her lungs.
Luciano Santini in a bathing suit was eye candy perfection. An Adonis of a man with muscles for days. She was transfixed by the way he commanded the space, how his mere presence affected her in the absolute best way. She had been struggling with the lack of progress she’d been making, but seeing him was like finding a lighthouse in the middle of a violent ocean storm.
Is he my salvation?
He was a man, a god of a man who consumed power like people consumed food. Yet, in his company, she felt like she could do anything, be anything, accomplish anything. It felt like he was sharing his power with her.
He went to her, pulled her into his arms. “Ciao, mia bella, Simone.”
Their kiss was filled with love, but it was over too soon. When he broke away, there was a sadness in his expression. A melancholy that touched the deepest part of her.
She ran her fingers lightly down his shoulders. “Is your heart feeling heavy?”
He sighed. “I don’t want to forget them.”
She offered an encouraging smile. “You won’t.” She pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart. “They live here. They will always be your first loves. Maybe even your true ones. But you have room to love others. You just have to forgive yourself first.”
He kissed her forehead. “Let’s swim, yes?”
She didn’t want to push him, didn’t want to force him to speak when his heart was heavy. People process love and loss differently. She couldn’t begin to understand the depth of his anguish, but she would do whatever she could to support him.
He walked to the diving board, dove in. She followed. The warm water refreshed her skin. Not too cold, not too hot. Just right. Like Luciano.
A broken, flawed, beautiful man with so much to offer.
She swam for as long as she could. Feeling more out of shape than she’d anticipated, she stopped against the wall to catch her breath. But he continued swimming. Back and forth until she joined him again.
When they finished, they swam to each other. Staying apart was impossible. The need to be close, the invisible string kept tugging her toward him. The passion in his kiss and the strength in his embrace made her feel alive… and so safe. His touch ignited her need, his kisses electrified her. When the kiss ended, she swam away. She wanted to get lost in him, but she needed to work.
It wasn’t her first choice, but it was the right choice.
After a quick shower, she dressed in yoga pants and a comfortable sweater and made her way downstairs. Despite the enormity of the house, she felt like she’d come home.
Following the delicious aroma, and the sounds of voices, she found Luciano sipping a glass of chianti in the kitchen while chatting with Chef Louis and his wife, Therese.
When Louis finished cooking, he and Therese retreated downstairs.
“Do you ever eat together?” Simone asked .
“No.” Luciano held up the bottle of wine.
“Just a half.”
He poured her wine, topped off his own. “I keep my personal and work lives separate.”
“Thank you for breaking your rule for me.”
He stepped so close she could see the streaks of dark green in his eyes. “I miss you.” He brushed his lips against hers.
“I miss you too.” She kissed him back.
He pulled her close, the power in his embrace made her gasp. Being in his arms was a powerful aphrodisiac and the perfect escape. He kissed the top of her forehead, broke away.
“Dinner, then we’ll work, yes?” he asked.
She didn’t want to say yes, but she needed to stay on point. “Dinner, work, then us.”
The intensity of his kiss filled her with anticipation. “I can’t wait for more zhuzhing,” she whispered before breaking away.
Chef Louis had prepared a delicious meal. Baked chicken, wild rice, a garden salad packed with fresh vegetables. “This looks fantastic… and it’s very health conscious.”
“Louis is excellent.”
“Do you eat alone?” she asked while they ate.
“When I’m home, yes. You?”
“Same.”
“Do you want children?”
Whoa .
“Where’d that come from?” she asked.
“I never saw myself falling in love again,” he said. “But I have, and these are questions I need answers to.” His phone buzzed. “Newburg is on the move.”
“Follow the white rabbit,” she said.
“To wherever it may lead,” he replied.