35. The Hidden Thread #2
He nodded, shut his laptop, and packed away. When he’d left the living room, I slouched onto the kitchen stool and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, thinking hard about what the fuck to do with this information.
I had to tell Aria. But it would devastate and terrify her. This wasn’t a coincidence. Aria’s mother’s past, Callum, Damiano being a Leone, and Piero’s campaign targeting me were all linked to her. But there was still something missing. An invisible thread tying it all together. But what?
I snatched up the folder and headed for my office, locking it in my safe under my desk. Maybe whatever information Piero was going to give me tonight would help it all fall into place.
I’d wait until then. Wait until after the party, and I’d have all the facts before shattering Aria’s world with the truth.
“I can’t believe he just said that to you,” I said to Raya, perching at the end of her bed. She glanced at me with a smile from her kneeling position on the floor, rummaging through her suitcase for something.
“Let me tell you one thing about mafia men,” she said, seeming completely unbothered by the whole situation. “They’re overprotective, overly dramatic, and always two seconds away from committing murder if anyone looks at their sister, niece, wife, or mother the wrong way. Or in any way, actually.”
“Isn’t that infuriating?”
She shrugged. “Elle found it infuriating. Me, not so much. It’s how they show their love.” She stopped rummaging when she found a notepad beneath the layers of clothes and held it in her hands. “So, was Nero looking at me?”
I let a slow, mischievous smile spread across my face at her coyness. “He was totally checking you out and foaming at the mouth. He’s quite handsome, don’t you think? I didn’t know there were hot, nerdy mafia men. You should talk to him.”
She looked down at the book in her hands and blushed. “He’ll never come near me after that. But I do need to talk to him. Well, actually, do you think you could talk to him for me?”
“Me?” My eyes widened. “What about?”
“Can you give him this? Just say I need his discretion.” She tore a page from her book and handed it to me. “And yours. Please don’t tell anyone, especially Sani. My brother’s my best friend, but he can’t know about this. He’d go crazy over nothing.”
I took the paper from her hesitantly and unfolded it. “Is it dangerous?”
“No.” She shook her head, her eyes pleading. “I just need Nero’s help to find someone.”
Please help me find this man. His initial is M, but I don’t know his name. He lives in Dublin. He was an inmate at Dublin Prison and was released three months ago.
I glanced up from the note, concerned. “This sounds dangerous, Raya. He was in prison? Why do you need to find him?”
Her gaze darted to the bedroom door as we heard footsteps outside. “Please, Aria. That’s Nero leaving. I won’t do anything with the information; I just want to make sure he’s okay. Please.”
I huffed and stood up, unable to deny her this. I raced to the door and opened it just as Nero breezed past towards the lift.
“Nero,” I whispered, chasing him down. He turned, his eyebrows furrowed, and looked me up and down.
“Signora Buccini,” he greeted formally. It was still a shock every time someone called me that, reminding me I was a married woman and a Buccini. I smiled and held out the piece of paper.
“Soraya would like your help finding this man and your discretion. She just wants to know if he’s okay. Please,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Sani wasn’t behind me.
Nero took the paper in my hand, read it, and then handed it back as if it were a vicious dog about to attack. “Please give the princess my apologies, but unless her brothers authorise it, I can’t.”
He turned and entered the lift. Shit.
I walked back into Raya’s room with a subtle shake of my head. Her shoulders sagged as she took the paper back and hid it in her notebook.
“It was worth a try,” she muttered, but she couldn’t hide the sorrow in her voice.
“Who is he? The man you’re looking for?” I asked softly as she shoved the notebook back into her clothes, along with a pile of envelopes.
“No one,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the word. She slammed the suitcase shut and zipped it. “He’s no one. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
She looked… heartbroken.
“Raya—”
She pushed her shoulders back and slapped her hands against her thighs, plastering a smile on her face. “Let’s decide what you’re going to wear to this party tomorrow. I’ll do your hair if you like?”
And just like that, she was a closed book again, locking her emotions away and throwing away the key. I gave her a smile.
“Will you come too?”
“No.” She frowned. “I hate public events. I’d rather stay at home with my books and music. I also need to video-call Mamma.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders, but she kept her gaze lowered.
“Are you sure? It might be fun.” We both knew it wouldn’t be. It was a political event full of Rome’s most egotistical people. It would be tedious. “I might need your help to stop Santino from killing Callum in front of a room full of cameras.”
She laughed, her hazel eyes shimmering with the same mischief Sani’s had. Buccini fire.
“You’ve got me wrong, Aria. If my brother wants to kill someone, I won’t stop him.” She held up a pair of gorgeous diamond earrings to my ears and, without meeting my gaze, said casually, “I’ll pass him the weapon and mop up the blood.”