6. Salvatore
six
Salvatore
“You have a problem!” Dante enters my office, not waiting. He slips into the chair in front of my desk.
I don’t look at him because I always have a problem. “What kind?”
“Isabel Roberts.”
Two words. Two words that have me on alert.
I have been thinking about her for the last few days since I saw her at that dinner in that damn dress that fit her perfectly. From the moment she entered the room, I lost my common sense. I forgot why I was there and all I could think of was how her skin felt under my touch. How would her body feel under mine? Instead of concentrating on why I was at that dinner, I watched her and Ethan. I wanted to break the hands that touched her, for no reason other than he is the one she is allowing to touch her.
I raise my eyes to his and he continues. “She was seen with the senator’s wife in front of the hotel a couple of hours ago. Mrs. Wilson wanted to enter but was stopped and escorted out. She demanded to see the manager, and Isabel was there to get every word said.”
“Fuck!” I lean back in my chair. “Who handled the senator’s wife?”
“Patricia. She handled things discreetly.”
I exhale, leaning back in my chair. “And Isabel?”
“She took the senator’s wife's side, asking Patricia what was going on and we weren’t to treat customers like this and other crap. After that, they took off together.”
I run a hand over my face. “I told her to stay away, but she’s like a dog with a bone.”
“What about the senator’s wife?” Dante questions.
“She wouldn’t dare to speak. If she does, her life is done. She knows I will destroy her and her husband and that I’ll leave her penniless and tossed out of her big house. She is the one with a lot to lose. For me, it would be a scandal that would die after a while. However, I need her cooperation. I still need the information she provides me.”
“I see. I can scare the journalist,” he says a little too enthusiastically.
Dante is always ready to torture someone.
I narrow my eyes. “You want to hurt an innocent woman? What happened to your code?” I ask. Dante is a killer, but even he has a code. When he was on the streets, he killed only those who deserved to be killed. Sometimes that had a different meaning.
“I won’t be hurting her, just scaring her away. I’ve had little fun lately. I need something to get me off and no one is doing it for me. Scaring her would bring me much more pleasure, and then I could get off.”
The mention of him getting off and Isabel in the same sentence makes my blood boil. An image of me smashing his head in appears in my mind.
“No!” I say, harsher than I meant. I shake my head slowly and exhale to calm myself. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to her. I’m still waiting for Marco’s report on her. You should go find that fucker who is sniffing around me.”
The corner of his mouth moves, but he doesn’t say anything. Was he baiting me?
He stands. “Well, I’ll see myself out.”
I say nothing to him as he walks to the door, whistling on his way out.
He wanted a rise out of me, and he got it. Cursing under my breath, I call Marco.
“Boss,” he answers on the first ring.
“Isabel Roberts. What do you have for me?” I skip the pleasantries. He knows me and knows when I need something.
“Well, I have everything from the last eight years, but I don’t have a damn thing before that. It’s like she never existed. At least, not in the USA. I reached a friend who told me to check Interpol, so I’m working on it. I’ll need to expand my research.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, one reason for lack of information would be if she changed her name and her record was sealed. It could be a lot of things. Like witness protection or similar.”
“Right, send me what you’ve got, and I need her address. I want everything about her as soon as possible.”
“On it.”
For the last hour, maybe more, I lost track of time since I got Isabella’s file. I had everything about her for the last eight years. Nothing very interesting. She led a pretty normal life. Every young woman her age does. The question that is bothering me is where was she before that?
The fact she’s asking questions about me and her questionable past, adding to that there is an enemy whose identity is still unknown makes her a danger to the family and our entire organization. But still, there isn’t enough to make her my suspect in this case.
The knock on my door interrupts my thoughts and Gabriel comes in. I sent him to the meeting with the Commission in my place. Since Julio De Angelo was arrested, the commotion between the heads of the family rose, and the trust we had between us was shaken. We couldn’t find out how the feds collected so much evidence against Camorra nor from where it came. Our sources were faced with a brick wall. No matter how deep our connections are, not even Marco could find anything. Whoever it was, did it the old school way and efficiently. The Commission needed to be informed that I have a target on my back and that I’m dealing with the situation. With that said, I need him to secure us with more weapons in case we need them.
“Nice of you to show up,” I tease. He was gone for an entire week. Nothing unusual if the business needs that long. This time, he needed to stay. I was surprised he indulged my request. He’d called and informed me he was coming in for a debriefing.
He sits in the chair opposite me. “It was quite interesting. The goods are safe and secured where they’re supposed to be.”
Translation. The deal went well, and the weapons are secured in my mansion. The mansion that belonged to my father. The one I hate from the depths of my soul. After his death, I put it under a false name so that if anything happened, it would not be connected to me. I use it as a safe base when shit goes down. It has the best security and surveillance system that only a few men know of. That’s why all my stash is there. My weapons, money, documents, and some other things.
“Perfect. Did everything go as planned?”
“Nico De Angelo, the new Camorra boss, has requested our help.” He leans on the table. “After his father and the few other members were arrested and most of their assets frozen, they were only left with essentials. They need an alliance and will do whatever is needed.” He raises his eyebrows. “You know as I do that they have the best contacts for suppliers. Besides that, the weapons will never be connected to you. They are the middlemen, and we can get our supplies without worrying about getting caught.”
“Did he mention what they need?”
“No. He requested a meeting. He is willing to come here. And since he was in Europe for the last seven years, he’s not suspected as complicit in his father’s business since he was a minor when he left to study abroad.” He continues with frustration on his face. “Plenty of soldiers left after they arrested his father and his underbosses. He wants to bring the outfit back to their feet.”
“Let Marco do some digging into De Angelo junior, and I want to know how the FBI got Julio De Angelo arrested. Then we can talk about meeting up.”
“Got it,” he says, but he doesn’t get up. He narrows his eyes, a questioning look on his face. “You look distracted.”
I know my friend can read my face without me saying anything. There’s no point in lying. I need his advice anyway.
“The journalist,” I say. “She didn’t drop the story. She keeps snooping around. And I think it’s time for a more personal visit. Plus, her past is raising questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“I have a report about her life for the past eight years, but before that, nothing.”
“Is Marco looking into it?” he asks. I nod. “Then let him do his job. Let Dante make some pleasant home visits and problem solved.”
I shake my head, there is this heavy feeling in my stomach that shows up every time I think about what I should do. And the images of her in my office keep replaying every time I try to make a decision.
“I just think there is more than that, and my gut has never failed me.”
“Then do what your gut tells you. Just don’t do something you will regret.”
I hope I won’t. I really do.
I waited until nightfall and made my way to the address Marco gave me. After I did a surveillance check around Isabel’s building, I discovered she lives in a pretty decent place. There is no security guard or porter, but the building can only be entered if buzzed in, and it has a good surveillance system.
I wait in my car for a while until I make sure my surroundings are safe; I have one of my men waiting outside Hall Media to inform me when she leaves, and from what I gathered about her, she works long hours and that should benefit me.
I take the device Marco has given me and approach opposite the camera on the front door and turn the device on, showing me the view from the camera on my phone. Punching a few buttons, I wait until the device shows me a black screen. I move toward the door. Using my kit, I open the door in a few seconds. I can walk inside the building with ease since I turned all cameras in the building off by uploading the virus. I take the elevator up to the sixteenth floor. I shouldn’t be surprised by what I see when I arrive at her door, but I am.
The door is solid wood with metal plates and a smart lock that needs to be entered with a fingerprint. There’s a camera in the peephole and on the side of the door.
“What are you hiding, bella?” I murmur to myself, surprised by the endearment term that came out of my mouth. I’m sure that behind this door there is an alarm system too. I place the small device Marco gave me on the lock and message Marco to deal with it, then I wait. After a minute, the door opens.
I take a quick tour of her minimalistic two-bedroom apartment. That makes me even more alert. I search every corner, looking for something personal that will answer the questions I have about her. The living room has a few bookshelves and some personal pictures of her and a young woman her age, and one with a nun. Nothing else personal, even between the books. Not that there are many books, but I looked through all of them. After inspecting the kitchen, I also found nothing, not even food, other than a few bottles of wine and some takeout leftovers.
I move to the bedroom, and her sweet scent fills my nostrils. The scent of citrus and flowers reminds me of summers in Italy. It is also the smell that calmed me as a child. I don’t know why, but it did. It was a scent my mother used to smell to calm her down when she was pregnant. I shake my head and keep searching for something that will give me any kind of information about her.
Nothing.
I approach her nightstand, seeing something shining on the top of a book. A round, gold pedant, a miraculous medal framed with diamonds. I turn the medal. The back is engraved with : Be brave, be strong, be fearless.
I don’t think much about it as I put it back where it was.
After my not-so-successful search, I sit on the couch in the living room, waiting for my prey to come home.