Chapter 10 DAN
DAN
Isqueeze the handle of my holdall, taking a step over the threshold of the plane.
Rose narrows her eyes. “Boarding ticket, sir.”
I hold the ticket in front of her face and curl my lip in the corner. I’m under her skin. This isn’t the warm welcome I had on the flight here. People show their true colours eventually and it’s clear that her friendliness on the way here was all a facade. She was just doing her job.
We stare off for a beat too long until her colleague says, “Business class is to the front of the plane, sir.”
“Thank you.” I nod and walk down the aisle into business class, my stomach churning with the brunch I’ve just eaten. Moisture gathers on my top lip as I lift my holdall into the overhead locker.
I settle into my seat, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension clawing up my spine. The plane hums beneath me, the cabin fills with the quiet murmur of passengers, and I run a hand over my face before pulling out my phone and texting my brother.
On the plane. Did you find a spare key?
He replies instantly.
Yeah, made a copy. It’s in the house.
Good. I won’t be coming home. Working surveillance. Can you meet me?
Sure. Let me know when and where.
I tap my fingers against my knee. My shirt clings to the damp skin of my back.
I should’ve got the train and taken the Eurotunnel or the ferry.
Anything is better than this. My eyes flick to Rose, directing passengers to their seats.
Her presence is a comfort and a welcome distraction, reminding me why I’m here.
I’m gonna need some fresh clothes too.
Why? You shit yourself on takeoff? (Laughing emoji)
I exhale through my nose.
You’re a funny fucker, aren’t you?
Try not to white-knuckle the armrest.
I let go of the armrest with a shake of my head and text back.
Piss off. I still have that picture of you tied up, remember?
And I told you, share that picture with anyone and I’ll break your nose, but you couldn’t help yourself. Could you?
My shoulders shake with a silent laugh, remembering Dom squirming on the kitchen floor after Poppy tied him to a chair.
Deep breaths, brother. You’ll be back on solid ground soon.
The seatbelt sign lights up in front of me. I flex my hand, clenching and opening my fist, while I take in deep breaths.
What’s the job?
I look over the seat in front of me where Rose is manoeuvring through the cabin, her posture stiff, her attention anywhere but me.
Complicated
Aren’t they all?
I turn my phone to airplane mode before slipping it back into my pocket.
With a deep intake of breath, I buckle my seatbelt and lean back in the seat and close my eyes.
Takeoff and landing are the worst. I never processed my trauma from the army.
But since the helicopter crash, I’ve fucking hated flying and avoid it all costs.
A hand rests on my shoulder. I open my eyes to the other flight attendant, Lisa Adams. “Don’t worry, sir. Only two hours and thirty minutes until we’re back in the UK. Can I get you anything?”
“I need Grace. Can you get me Grace?”
Her mouth parts, she glances to the curtain behind me, separating us from economy. “She’s busy, sir. She asked me to check on you instead.”
“She did?” My stomach does a somersault. She cares. “I’ll be fine. Just gotta get through takeoff.”
“I hate to see you like this, sir. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll just be at the front.”
I nod as she smiles and walks away.
A minute later, Rose walks down the aisle. Her colleague whispers to her, but loud enough for me to hear. “Mr. Inferno is asking for you.”
Rose glances over in my direction. “Mr. Inferno will have to wait. We’re about to take off.”
My lips quirk at the nickname and I grab Rose’s hand as she passes me, stopping her in her tracks. “Mr. Inferno, huh?”
She furrows her brow as she tries to escape without making a scene. “Well, you are burning up.”
I hold her hand in mine as I let out a long sigh, as if having her close brings me some relief.
“Sir, I have to get to my seat. The plane’s about to take off.” Her eyes soften as she takes in the sweat on my brow. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
I bring her hand to rest over my heart, and the thumping against my ribs slows a little. It’s easier to breathe with her here. “Is it?” Nothing will be okay until this woman submits to me.
She leans down and whispers, “I told you before, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I tighten my grip around her hand. “And I told you, you’re mine.”
She leans down and whispers. “The only man I belong to is my son. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.” Her eyes narrow as she snatches her hand away and walks to the front of the cabin.
This woman blows hot and cold. Just as I think I’m breaking through her walls, she builds another shield of armour.
Within minutes, the plane’s barrelling down the runway, the engines roaring under the wing. My fingers curl around the armrest and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think of anything to take me away from here, and like muscle memory, my mind pulls me to where it all began—Villa Borghese.
It’s as if it were yesterday. I can still smell the fresh cut grass as Dom paces between two Italian stone pine trees, his tattooed fingers scratching the rough hairs on his jaw. “Why are we wasting time here?”
I rest my head back against a tree and lower my newspaper. The sun’s rays warm my face and I welcome the small breeze coming from the direction of the lake. “I told you already. I’m waiting for the daughter. She comes here every lunchtime to read.”
Dom squints under the sunlight and whisper-yells, “Is this where you’ve been every day? Scoping out some pussy when we should be concentrating on the mission?”
“Keep your voice down.” I roll the newspaper in my hand and crunch it in my fist as I push off the tree, but she catches my eye and I freeze before I clock my brother round the head with the roll of newspaper. “She’s here.”
His gaze follows the direction of mine and a smirk forms on his face.
Now I whack him on the back of the head with the rolled paper. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I was expecting—”
“What?” I clench my back teeth. I know what he was expecting. He thought I was out here trying to get my dick wet with a hot woman, not a chubby girl barely eighteen. “Now do you believe she’s just part of the mission?”
He scratches his jaw again, eyes narrowing at me, then back to the Conti girl. “I mean, she’s not your usual type, but she’s not ugly.”
I shove the newspaper into his arms. “Your job is to keep tabs on the target. Leave the girl to me. I’ll get us the intel we need to make this mission go smoothly. The more we keep this on the down-low, the better.”
“What makes you think you’re the right man for the job? A little old for her, don’t you think?” Dom’s smirk is back, as if he knows I have a slight fondness for the lass. “I’m closer to her in age and we both know I’m the better-looking one.”
A laugh bursts from my lips. “Ah, baby brother, you might have the dimples, but I have the experience.” I pat his shoulder and give him a wink.
Dom rolls his eyes. “If by experience you mean a collection of broken hearts—”
“It’s called strategy.” I look past him, tracking the girl as she weaves her way through the tourists, a tattered book clutched to her chest as if it holds all her secrets.
She settles on her usual bench under the canopy of trees, backlit by the golden sun and framed like something out of a painting.
Her bag rests on the bench at her side as she opens the book on her lap, chewing the corner of her thumbnail as her eyes flick across the page.
She does that when she’s thinking. I’ve watched her long enough to know.
“She looks like a schoolgirl,” Dom mutters. “Are you sure she’s eighteen?”
“Birthday was last month. I checked.”
“This is fucked.”
I ignore him. I’m only befriending the lass. It’s not like I’m going to fuck a baby into her. “Did you set it up?”
He sighs and pulls a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, sliding them on. “Yeah. The guy’s loitering near the gelato cart. I paid him extra not to be too rough.”
I nod. “Good. If he lays a finger on her, I’ll slit his throat.”
“All right, Zorro, don’t forget your mask.” He chuckles as he pats my shoulder. “You sure you wanna go through with this?”
My eyes stay locked on her, ignoring my brother’s jokes. “She’s a Conti. We need a way in.”
“And if you catch feelings?”
I flick a glance at him. “Since when have I ever caught feelings?”
He snorts. “True.” Dom hands me back the newspaper. “You didn’t think to dress more casual?”
I glance down at my cream chinos and white shirt.
“I wanted to look smart for her. I need to make a good impression.”
Dom snorts. “What is this, a job interview? You look like her private tutor.”
“Better than looking like a yob. She’s used to men in suits. This’ll feel familiar—less like some random tourist in cargo shorts trying to chat her up.”
Dom shrugs as he glances down at his camouflage pattern combats and a white t-shirt that looks like it needs a good wash. “Point taken. Let’s get this show on the road.” He walks away, lighting a cigarette as he heads towards the guy he hired to steal her purse.
I roll the cuffs of my shirt up to the elbow, trying to look more casual as I step out from behind the tree, and make my way down the gravel path as if out taking a stroll. The warm breeze carries her floral perfume and for a second, I feel it settle in my lungs like smoke. Dangerous. Addictive.
Any second now.
I scan for the guy, see him move. He heads straight for her, all fake swagger and a canvas satchel slung across his shoulder. I clock his hand as he reaches towards her bag. He’s too fast. She startles, clutching the book to her chest as he snatches her belongings and bolts.
She calls out, “Ehi! Quella è la mia borsa!” She stands, frozen, like she’s not sure what to do.