Chapter Twenty-Five
Zahra
It baffled me how he’d successfully diverted my attention from why I was here and what was happening.
While I didn’t want to leave his warm embrace, we needed to talk about his active plan to destroy Vitale and why he had my friends working on this building.
I pulled away softly from him, catching his gaze.
“You have just realized that we need to talk,” Elio stated like he knew whatever charm he’d placed me under had now worn off.
“Yes, what’s going on?” I asked as he pulled farther back, hands still on my waist.
He watched me carefully, trying to work out my mood before speaking. “Right before you drugged me, you’d been trying to get Street back into the quest with my own team. You thought it would be better to work together.”
I nodded, eyeing him warily and wondering where he was leading.
“Good. I recall myself telling you that I already had it under control, though it might take weeks to collect, and you told me we did not have that much time—”
“Yes, yes, Elio, you don’t have to repeat our whole conversation; I have a really sharp memory.”
He frowned, amusement in his eyes. “I apologize; I was under the impression that you sometimes lose vital information from your memory bank. I will make sure not to make any assumption of that sort in the near future.”
My smile was not genuine, and I wanted to connect my forehead to his nose but held back. “It’s the way you insult me and still sound polite while you do.”
He nodded. “Yes, I have that skill.” He raised a hand to graze my cheek. “I love it when you are observant about little things pertaining to me.”
“Yes, I love it, too; I’m also very observant of the fact that in about two minutes, you might sustain a nose injury if you don’t cut the shit and start talking.”
His lips tugged at the side, but he didn’t comment further as he continued, “Right before I was about to be assassinated along with Kareem, I told you I would have the painting and the gold delivered to you once I collected it. To which you responded, and I quote, ‘No one takes care of our business for us; we like the hustle.’ In my mind, unbeknownst to you, I formulated a plan that could satisfy the both of us without quarrel.”
I watched him with a calculating frown. “What plan?”
“I already have the painting in my possession.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Kareem was very kind as to grant me ownership of the manor earlier than expected; a threat was made on his life, and the poor man did not anticipate how important that manor is to me and—now to many people.” He drew away ultimately, walking around the table to sit in the chair behind it.
I spun around, unable to ignore the clouds of suspicion covering the fluffiness I’d gotten earlier. “What are you talking about?”
I watched his eyes shine with pride—a pride that I was sure grew from whatever scheme he had concocted.
“The victim file you found when you infiltrated the condo of the assassins sent to kill me; how accurate was my file?”
I blinked, my mind pausing. “Too accurate.”
“Correct,” he said. “The Marino empire does not have a mole—it would not dare to have a mole because I provide them anything they want and more, and because they know I will know if they dared to cross me. The only person who could have delivered the information I wanted to buy the manor would have been Casmiro, Angelo—or me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I will break it down, Sport. Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair by the far end; I pulled it closer till it was opposite him and then settled onto it.
“If you did not know this about me, I do not like making noise. I despise it. I love sticking to my business so no one would feel the need to know my business,” he said.
“My father was loud. I am quiet. Being too loud is often known to be careless. But when you are silent and use your head instead of a gun, you tend to breeze in and out of chaos unaffected.”
Something clicked in my mind. “The school bus incident?”
“You are very sharp indeed,” he commended.
“The news about the painting and the quest was splashed across all media channels.
It got people to start digging, and even though it had later been proved to the public that it was nothing but an elaborate miscommunication and a scheme to make money—not everyone bought it. It was a big mess.
“Arturo’s adopted son, Chika, had paid several media houses to cover the story, throwing off the original people searching for the painting so that he could get to it before anyone else did.
He had figured out where it was when he landed here in Mexico.
But I’d had people take care of him before he could do even more damage. ”
“You didn’t kill Chika?”
“Only a few people are worth my bullet. He was not worth my bullet. I had my people do it. I had them question him, too, because I was too busy stopping the mayor from having a heart attack while chaos ensued in his city, thanks to you and your team.”
I became uncomfortable. “So you mean—it isn’t just you who knows that I—about how I brought him in?”
“No,” he answered. “But you need not worry. That is neither their concern nor their verdict to judge. They only passed information I asked them to retrieve.”
“Right … right … How does this relate to Kareem and the assassins?”
“A lot of noise had been made, so it was only a matter of time before someone randomly put two and two together and discovered the real location of the original painting. What better way than to be the person who caused the first chaos?
“I decided to buy the manor, knowing it would take weeks to secure.
Kareem, while kind, was too slow. He would have loved to peel me open, to make me a friend before his association with me was severed.
I did not need friendship; I only needed his signature.
I did not desire to cause him any harm, but I also needed to speed up the process and take it on without noise.
“I was unsure what you and your team had planned, but I had a gut feeling it would have backfired, and one of you would have gotten hurt. So—I found myself some assassins—or better yet, one anonymous buyer had found them and promised them a lot of money to assassinate Kareem and the person who wanted to buy the painting.”
I blanked out slowly, my head working, piecing things together, how his whole demeanor had changed when I informed him I needed Street back on the mission.
He was quick to dismiss the idea; also, last night, when I informed him of the assassins, he was more concerned that I’d drugged him and hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him.
He didn’t even ask about their origin or why—if they’d been after the manor’s owner—they would want him dead or the other two men they had gotten victim files on.
Elio clearly stated that I wouldn’t have needed to drug him if I had told him, but I’d taken it all in stride as his usual ignorance—and his chasing death. I didn’t think it was because he was already aware, but still—some pieces did not fit.
“Why would you hire assassins to kill Kareem if you didn’t want to cause him any harm?”
“They were not to touch Kareem, just the other men with him. Those ones were already planning to take him out, and while I would normally not care, Kareem had shown me nothing but kindness and trust and even offered to pray for me for no reason. It was my way of helping him without his knowledge and getting my hands on the manor and that painting as soon as possible.”
“But you told me it would take weeks before you secure ownership. Why would you wait for weeks if you wanted to get the manor as soon as you could?”
“I answered based on the way you phrased your question. You asked me how long the buying process would take, not how long it would take for me to get the painting—and I lied by omission and told you it was a gut feeling telling me it was all right to wait weeks because I did not want noise, and because I was not aware you knew about the assassins,” he clarified.
“If you had told me—or if Casmiro and Angelo had deigned to inform me, the events that followed could have been avoided.”
I frowned. “That goes both ways. If you had told me about the assassins, I wouldn’t have had to drug you and be scared for your fucking life.” My voice increased in pitch. “And you were so angry at me and almost broke things off with me, for what—”
“Do not misinterpret this, Zahra.” His tone was sharp as he sat up.
“I was not angry because you tried to save my life—no—I was angry because you drugged me, and at that time, I was clueless as to why you did it. You hadn’t exactly been forthcoming when divulging information; what the hell was I supposed to feel? ”
I scoffed, clenched my jaw, and looked away while trying to suppress my anger.
After a long silence, he sighed, leaning across and reaching for my hand. I looked over at him.
“Zahra, I don’t want to fight with you, we have already discussed this issue.
While I was angry that you drugged me, I was not lying when I told you I appreciated your taking the initiative to save my life.
According to how it all turned out, the assassins had ventured off course because the plan was to attack when we were touring the manor.
I needed to taint that place for Kareem so he would let it go quicker than he would if he loved it.
“When I noticed the formation at that party, I knew something was wrong, and I wanted to observe, so I left the crowd. If you hadn’t intervened and I had fleshed out their new strategy, I would have gotten you and Street out of there before they brought out their guns.
The lesson here is that a lot could have been prevented with trust from my end and yours.