Power (The Santini Assassins #1)

23. Murder and …

23

MURDER AND …

SIMONE

A t nine-thirty in the morning, Simone entered the Metropolitan Police Station in DC and walked over to the check-in counter.

A woman sidled over. “Special Agent Joelle James?”

“Yes,” Simone replied.

“I’m Nikki Cardoso.” After they shook hands, Nikki held up a shopping bag. “Perfect timing. My weekly junk food run.”

“Please tell me you share, Commander Cardoso,” Simone said.

Nikki laughed. “Hell, yes. I’m stress eating, so I buy way too much.”

The Homicide department was bustling with detectives and uniformed police officers. Once in her office, Nikki sat behind her desk while Simone eased onto a chair.

A man wearing a suit strolled in, a sheepish smile filling his round, clean-shaven face.

“How’s it going?” He extended his hand. “Detective Blake Hull.”

Simone shook it. “Special Agent Joelle James.”

Nikki pulled out a candy bar and handed it to him. The detective nodded at Simone before leaving.

Nikki closed her office door, sat back down.

“Are you seeing someone?” Nikki asked.

Jus thinking about Luciano made her smile. “Yes, why?”

“The detective who just came in wanted me to ask.”

“How do you know that?”

“He threw you a head toss, which is his male speak for ‘ask if she’s seeing anyone.’”

“He moves fast.”

“He’s definitely not a procrastinator, but he’s been married four times, so he’s not a horse I’d bet on.”

Simone laughed.

Nikki pulled out three small bags of chips, several candy bars, then extracted a package of six glazed donuts. “I like working with the Bureau, so take your pick.”

“Gotta have a donut.”

“Definitely.” Nikki opened the package, Simone selected a chocolate frosted and bit into it. As the delicious sugary dough titillated her taste buds, she said, “I love you, Commander Cardoso.”

Nikki laughed. “Stress eating is the best, especially when you do it with someone who appreciates it.”

“Nothing like being a strung-out LEO.”

“So true,” Nikki replied, before biting into her own glazed donut.

Simone asked, “Any progress with the Guy Chenkus case?”

Nikki got busy on her computer. “The gun casings were sent to forensics. Our witness, Sinclair Develin, saw a man in a hoodie approach the car from the east side, open fire, and bolt. One of my detectives followed up with Mr. Chenkus’ family and his boss. He worked for State and his record there was clean.”

Not exactly.

“I’d love to know why you’re following up on this case,” Nikki said. “Especially since we don’t have much to go on.”

If Simone told Nikki what she knew—and if Chenkus’ death was related to The Bomb Maker—she’d be thrusting him into the limelight. That could result in him blowing up the government buildings faster than he’d planned, simply to outrun law enforcement.

“I will as soon as I can,” Simone replied. “I’m sorry I’m not being more helpful, but I’m not at liberty to discuss. Don’t hate on the messenger.”

“I get it, but it would be good if we could work together.”

“Until recently, I had nothing. I’m concerned if word gets out, we’re just giving the unsub the attention he craves.”

Nikki leaned back in the chair. “I get that.” She bit into the donut.

“There’s a cold case from five years ago that I’d like to review.”

“Is it related to the Chenkus case?”

“No,” Simone replied.

“I’m having a terrific sugar high, so lay it on me.”

“The Santini murders.”

Nikki hopped on her computer. “When?”

After Simone gave her the details, Nikki pulled it up and spun the monitor so they could read the file together.

In August, five years earlier, a car exploded at the Santini home, killing all three occupants. Twenty-five-year-old Linda Santini and her two children, four-year-old Marco Santini and two-year-old Caterina Santini, were killed in the explosion. Luciano Santini, the alleged head of the Santini crime family, had taken his wife’s vehicle to the mechanic for repairs. He was at the repair shop at the time of the explosion. Cleared as a suspect, he was presumed by police to be the intended target. There were no persons of interest and no leads from those brought in for questioning.

“That’s tragic,” Nikki said. “They were all so young.”

“Yeah,” Simone murmured, her chest tightening.

These three were his entire world. His heart would never completely be hers. She would always share it with them, but she understood that it had to be this way.

His grief and survivor guilt must be overwhelming.

“I can forward everything to you.” Nikki shifted her attention to Simone. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You don’t look okay. You wanna talk about it?”

“Mr. Santini is a friend of mine. He’s gone legit and now runs Santini International.”

“No way,” Nikki said. “I love his clothes and treat myself to something nice when stress-eating isn’t enough.”

Simone was wearing one of the pantsuits he’d bought for her. “The clothes are beautiful.”

“It’s good you’re looking into it,” Nikki said. “Cold cases need fresh eyes.”

“I’ll see what I can dig up, and I’ll keep you posted,” Simone said.

“I’m happy to help out any way I can.” Nikki glanced at the report. “The arson detective is still around, but the homicide detective isn’t.”

Nikki’s desk phone rang. “Excuse me one second.” She answered, “Commander Cardoso.” As she listened, she jotted a few notes, asked a few questions, then hung up.

“I’ve gotta head out,” Nikki said. “Possible suicide, but it’s high profile, so I’ve been called to the scene.”

“So much for that donut,” Simone said.

“I know. Suicides are tough for me.” The color drained from Nikki’s face. “My dad committed suicide.”

“I’m so sorry.” Simone’s gaze dropped to Nikki’s notes, and the name of the deceased caught her attention. “Does that say Cary Newburg?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you can read my writing.”

Her guts twisted.

Peter, are you behind this?

“We need to talk, off the record,” Simone said.

“Can you ride with me?” Nikki asked.

“Absolutely.”

Simone had to confide in Commander Cardoso. She needed Nikki to walk into the crime scene with eyes wide open.

En route to Newburg’s, Simone said, “I think Cary Newburg’s death is related to Guy Chenkus’ murder.”

“How?”

“Both men worked at State,” Simone explained. “Newburg was having Chenkus create passports that could be passed on to the Haqazzii terror cell.”

Nikki’s eyebrows jutted up. “Oh. My. God.”

“This is something a very small group of people are keeping a tight lid on.”

“Got it.” Nikki turned into the neighborhood, the street swarming with cop cars and an ambulance.

Nikki parked, the women got out, made their way down the street. The air was chilly, the sky blue, and the pit in Simone’s stomach was the size of the donut she’d eaten. She’d left a tracker on Cary Newburg’s car. If someone checked that car carefully , they might find it.

I need to pull it before someone else does.

They gloved up, covered their shoes, and entered the home. A beat cop asked for their IDs.

After displaying their badges, Nikki said, “I need to talk to the responding officer.”

“Where’s the victim?” Simone asked the officer.

“His office, down that hall.” He pointed Simone in the right direction, and she took off.

Simone found Cary Newburg on the floor, a bullet wound to his right temple, a gun on the floor next to his right hand. He was dressed in cotton pajamas and a bathrobe. His face ashen, his eyes lifeless.

Her chest tightened.

Death was difficult, regardless of the situation. She walked around his office, eyed the papers on his desk. A sticky note was taped to a framed picture of he and a middle-aged woman.

Love you always, Trish

Simone made her way into the kitchen and over to Nikki who was speaking with two officers.

“Who called this in?” Nikki asked.

“Welfare check from his girlfriend. She said he was supposed to pick her up this morning, but didn’t show.”

“Where’d she call from?” Nikki asked.

“She said she was home. They were taking the day off from work.”

“Was anything breached?” Nikki asked.

“Nothing,” replied one of the officers. “Negative on B&E.”

Simone walked around the kitchen, pausing to read a handwritten note. It was a list of handyman items for the house. A grocery list sat next to that one. She spotted the pen. It was to the left of the papers.

Was Newburg left handed?

“Was anything moved?” Simone called out.

Nikki and the officers regarded her. “No, ma’am,” said one of the officers. “Not by us, but we’ve had some traffic through here.”

Simone walked into the garage. She was alone, the garage door was closed. She hurried to the car and removed the tracker. As she shoved it into her handbag, the door to the garage opened and Detective Blake Hull walked in.

“Joelle James, right? We just met back at the station. What are you doing out here?”

Simone brushed past him. “Same thing you are, looking for evidence.”

“Actually, I was following you,” he said.

She stepped into the house, turned back. “Why?”

“I thought maybe we could have coffee, or a drink, and discuss the case.”

“No, but thanks.” His smile dropped as she walked back inside.

That was close.

Back in Newburg’s office, she eyed the short stack of papers on his desk. There was nothing that would answer her question about whether he was left or right handed.

A piercing scream from the foyer had her hurrying out of the room. The woman from the photo—Newburg’s girlfriend, Trish Henderson—was being consoled by Nikki.

“I want to see him!”

“Ms. Benderson,” Nikki said, “let’s sit down.”

“Tell me what happened!” Trish protested. “Who killed him? Who would do this to him?” Tears streaked down her cheeks.

“Was Mr. Newburg under a lot of stress at work?” Nikki asked.

“Just the usual job stress. We were talking about taking a cruise in January.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Do you have any reason to think he would commit suicide?” Nikki asked.

Shock filled Trish’s face. “Suicide? Are you kidding me? He would never kill himself. Why would you even ask that?”

“Ms. Benderson, Joelle James, FBI. I’m very sorry for your loss. Was Mr. Newburg left or right handed?”

“Left, why?”

There it is.

“We’re just being thorough in our investigation.” Simone stepped away, asked Nikki if she could speak to her for a quick second.

Nikki asked one of the female officers to sit with Ms. Benderson, then followed Simone into the home office where Newburg’s body had been covered with a sheet.

Simone pulled back the cloth. “Entry wound on the right side of his head, gun laying by his right hand.”

Nikki’s slid her gaze from Newburg to Simone. “She just told us he’s left handed.”

“There are two lists on his kitchen counter,” Simone said. “The pen is on the left side of those lists.”

They returned to the kitchen. Nikki stared down at the papers, along with the pen. “Nice work, Joelle.”

“Newburg was murdered, just like Chenkus,” Simone said to Nikki. “Someone has a short fuse. There’s no room for mistakes, no room for pushing back. If someone steps out of line, they’re dead.”

She thought about the sign on her front door.

BOOM !

Despite the intensity of the case, she was not backing down. Fear would not win… not this time.

She told Nikki she had a few more questions for Ms. Benderson. Together, the women returned to the living room.

“Ms. Benderson, where do you work?” Simone asked.

“SSA,” Trish replied. “Social Security Administration.”

“What department?” Simone pressed.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant. My boyfriend was murdered and I’m being told it was a suicide.”

“We believe you,” Nikki said. “Please answer Special Agent James’s question. What department do you work in at SSA?”

“I run the Office of Systems. My department manages the computers that generate and assign social security numbers.”

“Are you an SES like Mr. Newburg?” Simone asked.

“I am,” she replied.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a good friend of mine, Peter Hirzog, Deputy Director with the Bureau,” Simone asked.

Trish’s ashen-white face morphed from pink to crimson, the color brightening her cheeks and her nose. “No, I don’t know him.”

Yes, you do.

“You sure about that? He and Mr. Newburg are friends.”

“No, they’re not.”

“I saw them together at Mac’s bar in Arlington.”

“Why ask me if you already knew,” Trish snipped. “Look, this is not a good day for me.”

“Ms. Benderson, do you know Peter Hirzog?” Simone pressed.

“I… um… I’ve met him.”

Still lying. She knows him.

“If it would make it easier on you, I can tell Peter about Mr. Newburg.”

“I’ll do it,” Trish’s beady eyes drilled into Simone. “You’d think it was a crime to know someone,” she snapped.

“It’s only a crime if you do something illegal,” Nikki said. “Have you done anything illegal, Ms. Benderson?”

“Of course not,” Trish quipped. “My boyfriend is dead. I don’t remember who I know, who I don’t know, and I don’t give a damn about any of it!”

“Thank you for talking to me.” Simone slid her attention from Trish to Nikki. “I’m gonna take off.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Benderson,” Nikki said. “I’ll be right back.”

At the front door, Nikki said, “Let me get an officer to drive you back to the station.”

“I’m good. Thanks for letting me tag along. I’ll be in touch.”

“You were super helpful.” Nikki opened the front door and they went outside. “Are you calling an Uber?”

“No,” Simone said removing her shoe coverings. “See that black SUV parked up the street. “He’s with me.”

Nikki’s eyebrow arched. “What do you mean?”

“He’s my security detail.”

“ What ?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story. After we solve this case—hopefully before the end of time—we’ll share a bottle of Santini Chianti and I’ll fill you in.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know he made wine.”

“He does it all, including ensuring my safety.”

Nikki smiled. “Sounds like a good friend.”

Simone’s heart blossomed. “He’s the best.”

Nikki went back inside, Simone removed her gloves before hurrying up the street. After climbing into the SUV, she said, “Thanks for doing this.”

“Whad’ya find out?” Teddy asked.

“Newburg was murdered, but it was made to look like a suicide. Sloppy job though.”

“How’s that?”

“Newburg was left handed, but the killer shot him in the right temple.”

Teddy laughed. “What kind of an idiot does that?”

“Maybe he was impatient, but I’m thinking he assumed Newburg was right handed.”

“They always fuck up. But they don’t always get caught.”

“I appreciate the ride today,” she said. “I know your brother wants me safe, but you have more important things to do than to drive me around.”

“He wanted to do it himself, but I told him no. He’s going to be like this, so you better get used to it.”

“Forever?”

Teddy shrugged. “I dunno. He’s not okay, you know that, right?”

“I know his family will always have his heart. I think he’s capable of loving me and continuing to love them.”

“You’re cool. I like that ‘bout you.”

“I’m just faking it.”

He chuffed out a laugh. “Where to?”

“I could use your help with something.”

“Being your driver isn’t enough?”

She laughed. “You’re doing too much, but you’ve got your laptop. Any chance we can hop online?”

He logged in. “Whatcha need?”

“Do you have any names of the terrorists who got into the country?”

“Got ‘em all.” He got busy typing. Seconds later, he spun the laptop toward her.

She eyed the list. “Pull up the two Haqazzii men.”

He pulled up one. His passport said he was a British citizen, here on a teaching assignment at the University of Virginia.

“A history teacher,” she grumbled. “He sailed through customs, no problem. How is that even possible?”

“No one checked.”

“Right,” she replied. “And why is that?”

She continued reading, then stopped at the nine-digit number. “He’s got a social security number. He’s not an actual US citizen, but there’s his number, which makes him?—”

“Totally legit,” Teddy said.

“I just met the woman at SSA who runs the department that issues social security numbers.”

“Nice work, Sherlock.”

She chuckled. “Looks like your brilliant brother was right.”

“I’m the brilliant one. The other three are dummies.”

“Three? Are you including Carrera?”

“Luciano, Gabriel, Greystone—he’s the black sheep—and me.” He shot her a cheesy grin. “I’m the baby.”

“Luciano never mentioned Greystone.”

“Bad blood,” Teddy replied as he pulled up the second Haqazzii terrorist.

“This one claims he’s an oil company exec.” Simone ground her teeth as she continued reading. “He’s got a legit passport and an SSN.” Heat infused her chest and she cracked the window. “We need to head over to the Hoover Building.”

He threw the vehicle into gear and headed out of the neighborhood.

“Do you need me to pull up directions?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Been there before?”

“Yup.”

“Why?” she asked.

“For fun,” he replied with a wink.

Teddy kept his eyes on the road. She couldn’t tell if he worked there, had special access to the building, or what his deal was. Her poker face was amateur compared to his.

“Do you think Peter Hirzog is involved?” she asked.

“Walk me through the deets.”

“Chenkus worked for Cary Newburg at State. Chenkus was shot dead driving out of Develin & Associates. Now, Newburg’s dead, gunshot wound to the head. Newburg’s girlfriend—Trish Benderson—denied knowing Deputy Director Peter Hirzog with the Bureau, then changed her answer several times.”

“Red faced?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you say, ‘liar liar pants on fire’?”

Simone smiled. “You should take your act on the road.”

“Nah, I like what I do too much.”

“And what, exactly , do you do?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I do it all, baby. I do it all.” He stopped at a red light. “So Benderson knows him.”

“Then, there’s The Bomb Maker,” she continued. “He asked Luciano for a million in counterfeit. He threatened me if I took the case, then put that note on my front door after I did.

“Working with Mr. Steel Balls was great,” Teddy said. “I know you were worried about your home, but I gotta get me a robot like that. Super handy.”

“Are you always this laid back?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he replied. “Why?”

“It’s good.”

“No point in getting worked up about any of this. You’re up against a lot. Better to give yourself a break, than to beat yourself up.”

“You really are the brilliant one in the group.”

Teddy grinned over at her. “You’ve got a network of execs at different federal agencies. We go with the theory that they’re helping terrorists get into the country and providing them with legit paperwork. From the ones I looked into, they haven’t even changed-up their appearances. They’re clearing customs, no prob. The Bomb Maker’s planning something epic. Hard to pull that off alone.”

“Too much pressure,” she murmured.

“Can’t stress about what you can’t control. Your job is to chase the leads, follow the evidence. Right now, you’ve got dead people, a possible corrupt group in the government, a lone bomber hiding in the shadows, and an unknown number of Haqazzii terrorists in the US.” Another shrug from Teddy. “Unless Hirzog or that woman with SSA are gonna talk, you got nothing.”

She rubbed her forehead to help calm the bass drum pounding out a frenetic rhythm. “Luciano put a call in to Willie Boy. I need to bring Dante in for questioning.”

“Willie Boy is a fucked-up mess. He has no loyalty to the fam. Never has. He’ll only give up this Dante guy if it serves him.”

“Can you take me to his restaurant?”

“Lulu will.” Teddy turned onto Pennsylvania Ave. “I’ll talk to him while you’re meeting with Hirzog.”

Teddy was super chill and easy to talk to. Hard not to like him, but she was seeing his soft side. He was large, like six-three, jacked-up muscles, and long blond hair. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d do to someone he didn’t like.

Teddy pulled up in front of the FBI building.

“You can’t park here,” she said.

He flashed her a smile. “Sure, I can.”

She left the warmth of his vehicle for the biting November air, hurried inside and over to security. She was there on official ALPHA business, so she pulled out her Joelle James FBI badge, held it under the scanner. The light turned green and she proceeded through employee security. Once through, she made her way toward the elevator bank.

She had questions, and she was confident Peter had answers. She hadn’t wanted to believe Luciano was right about him… but the farther down the rabbit hole she went, the more convinced she was that Peter was somehow involved.

LUCIANO

Luciano’s phone rang. “Santini,” he answered.

“She’s talking to Hirzog,” Teddy said.

“How’s she doing?”

“Good, but she’s feeling the pressure. She wants to talk to Willie Boy. Should I bring my brass knuckles?”

“We need answers, so bring whatever the hell you want. Swing by and pick me up.”

The line went dead, and Luciano turned his attention back to work. He was on edge. He had meetings he couldn’t miss and several execs flying in from Italy for a showing. While Simone had agreed to spend the day with Teddy, she wouldn’t do that for the rest of her life.

What choice did he have?

She was in danger every moment she was with him. While he knew she’d be safer if he ended things with her, he couldn’t.

I’m in love with her.

Linda, I will never stop loving you, but I can’t spend my life alone. Please forgive me for loving again.

SIMONE

On the elevator ride upstairs to Peter Hirzog’s office, Simone’s phone buzzed with a text.

You’re a naughty girl, Simone Redding. You’re chasing me, but you won’t catch me. If I were you, I would STOP. The mighty gates of the Santini mansion won’t stop me. Nothing will stop me!

Her blood turned to ice in her veins.

Refusing to let the fear creep in, she snapped a screenshot of the threat and texted it to Luciano.

The elevator doors opened on the top floor, she stepped out, and her phone rang. It was Luciano. Despite loving that he was calling, she couldn’t have him worrying.

“I’m fine,” she answered. “I’m about to talk to Peter.”

“You’re vulnerable,” Luciano said. “I don’t like that.”

“I’m okay, and I’ve gotta work.”

“You’re wearing body armor, yes?”

“You watched me put it on.” After a brief pause, she said, “Luciano, I can’t let him bully me into submission. He already did that. Maybe if I hadn’t gone into hiding, Frederica and her team would be alive. Maybe that son of a bitch would be long dead and a postscript in the history of American lunatics.”

“I’m sorry, Simone, but?—”

“No buts. I got this. I love you, and I’m hanging up now.”

“I love you too,” he said.

She ended the call, entered the executive division, and stopped at reception. “Simone Redding for Peter Hirzog.”

“Hey,” said a familiar voice. “I thought that was you.” Carrera walked over. “What brings you by?”

She stepped away from the check-in desk. “I need to talk to Peter. How are you? How’s Slash and Elsa?”

He smiled. “All good. We’ll see you next week.”

She blanked.

“Thanksgiving,” Carrera said. “You’re coming to dinner with Lulu.”

“Right. Thanksgiving with the Santini’s.” She stepped close. “Peter doesn’t know I’m seeing Luciano.”

“He’s not hearing about that from me,” Carrera replied.

“Ms. Redding,” called out the receptionist.

Carrera said goodbye, and Simone returned to reception.

“Mr. Hirzog isn’t here,” said the receptionist.

“When do you expect him back?”

“Normally, he lets me know when he’s off-site, but it looks like he never came in today.”

“Please let him know I stopped by.”

On her way toward the elevator, Simone texted Teddy. “On my way down. Where can I find you?”

“Right where you left me,” Teddy replied.

She found Teddy standing next to the SUV, talking with two people in suits. She waited in his vehicle while they finished their hushed conversation.

“Special Agent friends of yours?” she asked as he pulled into traffic.

“Maybe,” he replied. “Whad’ya learn from Hirzog? Lemme guess? Deny, deny, deny.”

“He wasn’t there,” Simone pulled out her phone. “I’m calling him.” The phone rang several times before rolling to voicemail. She hung up and sent him a text.

Are you okay? Call me

Teddy turned onto 11 th street, made a right on H, a left on 10 th , and a right on Palmer Alley. He drove under the building, parked in a VIP spot along the front row, and cut the engine.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” He was out the door and moving toward the building entrance, so she kicked up the pace to catch up.

He opened the door for her, she stepped into the upscale building, and stopped short to take in the magnificent lobby.

SANTINI INTERNATIONAL

US Headquarters

The white neon company sign brightened the black wall behind reception. The long counter was manned by two men and three women. Dressed in their Santini duds, everyone was using bright pink earbuds. Some were talking while others typed away on their keyboards.

Polished white marble reflected the pendant lights dangling from the second story. Bursts of bright colors, from oversized abstract art, clung to the dark walls.

The expansive waiting area boasted modern white sofas with rounded edges and several stunning black chairs situated in a corner facing a round coffee table. There was a state-of-the-art coffee machine, giant-sized indoor plants staged throughout the space, and the entire company was abuzz with unbridled energy.

Simone’s headache went away, the excitement running rampant through her.

“Is this the nexus of the universe?” she murmured to Teddy.

He chuffed out a laugh.

One of the receptionists ran over. She threw her arms around him, hugged him hard, then stepped away. “Hey, Tank. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

The young woman batted her lashes at him, and Simone bit back a smile. “Nothing. You?”

“Hangin’. Can you check us in?”

“Sure. How’s things?”

“Busy,” he replied.

She ran behind the counter. “I’m hoping we can get together soon.”

“Same,” he replied before ushering Simone through the door.

“She was cute,” Simone murmured.

Teddy said nothing as he guided her to the elevator bank where they were whisked to the top floor. Down the hall he took her, past offices and cubicles. The incessant hum made the air sizzle. People were talking fast, they were scurrying around. Everything was urgent, needing to be handled right away. The positivity was outright contagious.

“You like it here, don’tcha?” Teddy asked.

“How can you tell?”

“You’re smiling. It’s crazy, huh? It’s like Lulu releases his power into this space and they gobble it up. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were all on something.”

Simone laughed.

Teddy ushered her into a small waiting room at the end of the hall. On the other side were two offices. One had its door closed, the other open. A pleasant-looking man emerged wearing a suit, a black shirt, and a bold orange, yellow, and red tie.

He grinned at Teddy and hurried over. “There he is. The man of the hour.”

“Are you keeping the boss man in line?”

“He’s doing a million things at once. I don’t know how he does it. He’s got another new line coming out, so it’s been nonstop all morning. We’ve got the contingency here from Milan.” He smiled at her. “I’m Dominic, Mr. Santini’s assistant. Who have you modeled for?”

“This is Simone,” Teddy said.

“I’m not a model,” Simone replied.

Dominic’s mouth dropped open. “What a complete waste of stunning beauty. Wow.” He shook his head. “You would look fab—totally fab—in anything from our new line.”

A door opened, Luciano stepped into the waiting area. His attention slid from Dominic to Teddy to her, and in that split-second, his expression changed. His eyes softened, the look of love impossible to miss. It was as if he was projecting his power into her. The light shining from his eyes made her want to jump into his arms, kiss him for days, and never, ever leave his side.

In that moment, she melted from the intensity of everything Luciano.

“Ms. Redding,” he murmured as if no one else was in the room. With his hands bracing her shoulders, he kissed one cheek, then the other. His smile turned her inside out, but it was the fire in his eyes that scorched her soul.

“Mr. Santini.” She extended her hand because she had to touch him. Had to feel his skin on hers, his fingers against hers.

He slipped his hand into hers, but he didn’t shake it. He just held it. For those few glorious seconds, everything faded away. Nothing mattered, but the man in her direct line of sight. Handsome, powerful, and sizzling with unparalleled energy. Being in his presence made her believe that everything would be okay.

As she tugged her hand away, she offered a little smile.

“Okay, so I’m gonna need a cold shower,” Dominic said. “Whew, there is some crazy thing happening between you two. Tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve met.”

“No,” Luciano said. “Not the first time.” He hadn’t even acknowledged his brother, his attention still anchored on her. “Are you hungry? Can we get you a coffee?”

“I’m starving,” Teddy blurted. “Not feeling a coffee, though. How ‘bout one of those protein drinks you’ve got in the cafeteria?”

“I’m on that,” Dominic said.

“Simone,” Luciano said. “Are you hungry?”

The morning had been intense, but the donut was keeping her hunger pangs at bay. “I’m fine,” she replied.

“We’ll eat when we return.” Luciano shifted his attention to Teddy. “I’ll drive.”

“Ohmygod, what the hell was that?” Teddy barked out. “That’s how you greet me?”

“Oh, boy.” Dominic smiled at Simone. “Lovely to meet you.” He retreated into his office.

Luciano directed them to a different elevator near his office. His private elevator. On the ride down, Luciano clasped Simone’s hand, gave her a tender squeeze, and let go. A bolt of electricity shot through her. He could send her to the moon with very little effort.

She was a goner. A forever goner.

They left through the parking garage in Luciano’s Range Rover. Through the streets of DC he drove. His focus was on the road, his lips slashed in a thin line. After a few minutes, he broke his silence. “What did Hirzog say?”

“He wasn’t there,” she replied. “His assistant didn’t know where he was, so I texted him.”

“How was your morning?” Luciano continued.

“Cary Newburg is dead,” she said.

Silence.

Deafening, wicked silence.

He glanced over. “Details.”

“Murder made to look like a suicide. I was with Commander Nikki Cardoso of MPD when she got the call.”

“This is fucking unreal,” he bit out. “And Hirzog’s MIA. He’s lost it and he’s on some kind of killing spree. Maybe his plan is unravelling. People want out, so he’s killing them.”

“I pulled the tracker from Newburg’s car.”

“Nice,” he said.

“And I met his girlfriend, Trish Benderson. She runs the Office of Systems at Social Security. Teddy and I learned that the terrorists who are coming in don’t just have legit passports and aliases, they have social security numbers.”

“Figli di puttana succhiacazzi,” Luciano growled.

“Translate,” she said to Teddy.

“He’s swearing pretty good,” Teddy replied.

“Teddy, thank you for spending the day with Simone. I appreciate it.”

“You got it.”

Luciano made a call.

“Yes, sir,” Dominic answered.

“Send a car to pick up Teddy,” Luciano gave him the address to Willie Boy’s restaurant in Old Town, then hung up.

“What’s going on?” Teddy asked.

“After we’re done beating our douche of a cousin for answers, Simone and I are going to hunt down Hirzog,” Luciano said.

When his gaze found hers, she couldn’t miss the anger in his eyes. Luciano was furious. She had no doubt he’d unleash some of that on his cousin… and save the rest for Hirzog.