GIANNI


    “Patience,” Roger advises, his eyes constantly moving as he scans the area around us while we stand beneath the covered stoop in front of his cottage. “Just because I haven’t found anything yet doesn’t mean I won’t.”


    “It isn’t you I’m frustrated with,” I grunt, trying not to appear suspicious. There are no fewer than five guards within my line of sight, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s one of them.


    The traitor.


    “It’s barely been two days since I installed the software,” he reminds me. “Give it some time.”


    “I get it, but until then, I have to pretend I trust everyone equally, and that’s frustrating as hell when you know one of your men is sharing information he shouldn’t be.”


    “There is another solution. It’s faster, if that’s what you’re looking for. You could just fire everybody and start over.”


    He recoils under the sharp re I shoot at him. I know he wasn’t serious, but I’m not in a joking mood. “I can’t afford to lose my entire team at a time like this. Not with a new deal in the works and increased security.”


    “I know. I just wanted to ensure you knew all the possibilities.”


    What I don’t want to voice, though, which he probably understands, is my hesitation in leaving the house unsecured now that Caterina is here. It’s more important than ever to make sure there are eyes watching me at all times. I can’t afford to throw away all of our security because of one bad apple. The frustration I feel mounts every day. The sense of betrayal. I almost wish Amalia would pull more of her shit in hopes somebody will slip up and reveal themselves as the one going behind my back to feed her information. She’s been quiet–too quiet. So quiet that just the thought of it makes my hackles rise.


    “I’ve been thinking,” Roger murmurs, “what if we set a trap?”


    “In what way?”


    “We cane up with a made–up scenario. Divide the men into groups of three or four, get them all in a room together, then mention one of these fake scenarios.”


    “Such as what?”


    “You’re selling the house. You’re moving to Europe. You’re getting married.”


    Ahhh. Yes. “Something that would interest her,” I muse.


    “Exactly. If shees back to you and throws it in your face, you’ll know from whatever she tells you which story she heard. We can narrow it down to the three or four men who possibly gave her the information.”


    “You know, that’s not a bad idea,” I agree. “And those are the phones we can check, too, to see which of them made contact with her.”


    “It’ll give us a direction to go off of.”


    “Yes, it will.” There’s a humming sensation rippling through my body, the buzzing of excitement, possibility. “I like this idea. I’lle up with a few stories I know will get under her skin, and you break down the men into groups.”


    The sound of tires crunching over gravel draws my attention, instantly wiping away all thoughts of Amalia when I catch sight of Tatiana’s car flying up the driveway.


    Roger grunts in disapproval as we watch. “It’s bad enough she refuses to have a driver,” he mutters. “Bur like a bat out of hell?”


    s she have to drive


    The car breezes past us before squealing to a stop in front of the house. The two of us watch, silent, as Tatiana shoves her door open and jumps out, then reaches into the back seat for shopping bags which she yanks from the car almost violently.


    Tatiana?<b>” </b><b>I </b>call out, but my voice goes unacknowledged. She doesn’t look my way<b>, </b>either,


    “<b>Great</b><b>,</b><b>” </b>I mutter, with Roger sighing in agreement. There I was, thinking everything was getting better.


    What’s worse<b>, </b>Caterina waits to open her door until Tatiana is already stomping her way up the front steps and into <b>the </b>house. The worry in her voice when she calls out gets my legs moving with out thinking, “Wait a minute, Tatiana. Please?” Caterina goes ignored<b>, </b>too, which tells me whatever this is has to be serious


    “Caterina.” <b>The </b>dismay on her delicate face draws me to her. Nevertheless, she’s already hurrying from the car and up into the house by the time I reach her. What the hell is going on? I am chasing behind them both.


    201


    What could have happened? Fear knots in my stomach. Everything was fine when they left the house. So whatever it is, it must have urred while they were out, and it upset Caterina enough that she ignored me in favor of chasing her friend.


    Considering I’m already dealing with the bitterness of knowing I’ve been betrayed by one of my own, today is not the day to test if I’m willing to put a bullet in someone.


    “Caterina!” I bark once inside the house. My angry


    As the air, echoing in the cavernous entry hall.


    She peers over her shoulder, and it damn near stops my heart. I can’t identify what’s written across her face using any other word but fear. She’s frightened. Immediately every horrible, terrible thought fills my head. Who hurt her? I swear to god I’ll kill them, destroy them, make them wish they were never born.


    “What happened?” I demand, marching toward her while she backs away, closer to the door separating Tatiana’s wing from the rest of the house. My daughter has already disappeared behind it.


    “She’s upset.” Caterina peeks behind her to the closed door.


    “No kidding. Why? That’s my question. What happened while you were shopping?”


    “I…” She shakes her head, shrugging, but her body betrays her as a slight tremble moves through her<b>. </b><b>“</b>I’m not sure.”


    “Caterina, please tell me this isn’t where we are again. Don’t lie to me, because that’s what you’re doing, and you’ve never been any good at it. We promised to be honest with each other going forward, so I deserve to know. I don’t like both of you being upset without knowing how to fix it.” I reach for her and recoil with surprise when she flinches away from my touch. “What happened?” I demand. “I swear to god if I find out that someone…


    “No one did anything.” She interrupts me before I can finish my thought. “It’s just… I don’t know…” Her chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, faster with every second. Her gaze widens, and she reminds me of a bunny in a trap. Now it doesn’t matter <b>if </b>she flinches. I can’t bear to stand by and watch her suffer like this, so <b>I </b>grab her by the arms and pull her close, holding her against my chest while she trembles against me.


    “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll work it out. However, we can’t if I don’t know what we’re up against.” Deep down inside, I know too well that if she is afraid or hesitates to tell me the truth it’s no one’s fault but my own. The way I treated her before, my moods swinging violently back and forth depending on how determined I was to keep her away from me for her own good. It’s only natural she would still be afraid of me at times. That’s a punishment I’ll have to learn to live with as I earn her trust.


    “Can we go sit down somewhere? Somewhere private?”


    With an arm wrapped around her waist, I walk her to my office. Dread weighs heavier on me with every step we take. While in my head, I can’t help but try to guess what’sing. It’s a habit of being in my position for years; the effort to keep me and mine safe by foreseeing every obstacle and danger.


    I’m in the dark now. There are too many possibilities, too many enemies.


    Once we’re alone, I sit her down, then close the door to give us privacy. “Do you need a drink?”


    Her head swings back and forth. “No, not at all.” She runs a hand under her eyes, sniffling. “I’m sorry, I didn’te out this way.”


    t it <b>to </b>have to


    Every fiber of my being is tuned into every move and breath she takes. I’m utterly helpless to everything that is <b>her</b><b>. </b>She’ll never understand how all that I am and all that I want is wrapped up in her. Some much so that I want to take her and shake her and


    <b>demand </b>answers–anything so long <b>as </b><b>I </b>can vent this unbearable tension.


    <b>“</b><b>I’m </b><b>trying </b><b>to </b>be patient and understanding, but too many scenarios are running through my head. I’m going <b>to </b><b>need </b><b>you </b><b>to </b><b>tell </b>me right now,” I grit out, and the way she flinches confirms the stain in every word.


    Dropping to one knee before her, I cover her quivering hands with mine. “Whatever it is, I’m here. I want to help. Did <b>you </b>have <b>a </b>fight?” I ask<b>, </b>hopeful that it’s something as meaningless as that.


    “Not really.” She stares down at our joined hands. “Although she upset with me.‘


    “Why? You know how she’s beentely. I wouldn’t take it personally.”


    “It’s not like that. She’s… I’m…”


    “You’re what?” Leaving? Fuck, she’s going to tell you she’s leaving, because you never deserved her to begin with. She never wanted this. Who could me her?


    The doubt in my mind is a terrifying reality.


    <b>“</b><b>I </b>was afraid to tell you,” she whispers. “I didn’t know how you would feel about it, so I didn’t want to tell you yet. Only she figured it out, and now she’s mad at me. Thest thing I need is for you to be mad or upset too.<i>” </i>


    “Mad about what? For God’s sake, talk to me. What would I be mad about?” Dear God, don’t let it be what I think it is. Don’t let her say she’s leaving me.


    “I’m…” She closes her eyes and exhales a deep breath from her lungs. “I’m going to have a baby.”


    It’s like a bowling ball to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs. Except instead of pain<b>, </b>there’s a rush of relief. I’m almost weak with it by the time I manage to take a breath which I release on a softugh. “Oh god, Caterina. Are you really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”


    “Yes.” Her head bobs up and down, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping down onto the backs of my hands. <b>“</b>I know you said you wanted one, but saying and actually having are two very different things.”


    “Caterina. Shit.” Gathering her in my arms to stroke her hair, <b>I </b>close my eyes and soak in the moment. She’s pregnant. My little bird is carrying my baby. Our baby.


    —


    “Does this mean you’re happy?” Her question is muffled against my shoulder, but I hear the anxiety in it just the same. “Happy? I’m overjoyed! Are you kidding?” Laughing, I pull back to take her soft cheeks into my hands so I can stare into her dazzling blue eyes. “This is… it’s everything. I told you I wanted children<b>, </b>and I wasn’t lying. I want this. I want you. I can’t believe you’re growing our baby inside of you.”


    “I know, but it’s so soon, and then I saw- window at my back.


    “What?” I whisper. “Who did you see?”


    Her mouth snaps shut an instant before she averts her gaze<b>, </b>looking toward the


    “Amalia. She was at the clinic when I went to the doctor. We ran into each other in the lobby, and she said some things. I know she was just trying to get inside my head, and I was trying to remind myself that she’s telling me these things because she hate you. Nheless, it didn’t work.”


    “What did she say?” I nearly bark the question.