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“It was the Fargos who broke into Rossi’s office, wasn’t it?”
“From the description they gave me, there’s no doubt. I’m sending you a photo from their security cameras.”
r /> Oren’s phone beeped with the incoming message. He opened it, saw a grainy photograph of a man and a woman climbing on the balconies of the Rossi villa. “So we know the Fargos were there,” he said. “The bigger question is, what’re you doing to make sure neither of them interfere in our plans again?”
“To start, we’ve tapped into the phones of Oliver and the mechanic.”
“Weren’t they in Milan?”
“They’re heading south again, probably to meet up with the Fargos. When they do, we’ll deal with them.”
“Had you dealt with the Fargos back when I asked you to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”
Colton cleared his throat. “As I said, Payton and the mechanic are heading south. The path of their travel indicates they’re on a train to Rome. Bruno and one of Rossi’s men will follow them to wherever the Fargos are holed up.”
“In Rome?” Two women walked into the lounge, both rolling small luggage bags alongside them. “You really think you’re going to be able to do anything with that many people around?”
“I assure you that the location makes no difference whatsoever.”
“I want them—” Oren, seeing both women watching him, stopped just short of saying the word dead. He forced a slight smile, lowering his voice as the women took a seat a few feet away. “Just see that the job’s done. I’m tired of waiting.”
He disconnected, then took a better look at the digital photo that Colton had sent of the security camera from Rossi’s villa. Though grainy and dark, the sight of the woman’s face shot a feeling of dread through him.
It couldn’t be . . .
The woman from the elevator? But she spoke no English. Her accent was impeccable. She— She what? Pretended to be Italian?
The knowledge of how close she’d been to him sent his thoughts racing. He wasn’t used to this sense of panic or the feeling that he was losing control. He wanted to throw his phone across the room, to smash something, anything.
The sight of the two women watching him forced him to take a calming breath. What he needed to do was reevaluate. He hadn’t gotten this far in life by letting his emotions rule him.
He had only himself to blame. Recalling the photos that Colton sent in the original dossier on the Fargos, he opened that file, took a second look. The truth was, he hadn’t given the photos more than a cursory glance. Who cared what the spoiled rich wife of a multimillionaire looked like? How was he to know that this Remi Fargo was anything more than just a pretty face who could shoot straight?
He stared at her photo a few seconds more, angry that he hadn’t recognized her when she’d stood next to him outside of Rossi’s villa. Of course, he’d had other things on his mind, like securing the Ghost before someone else bid on it.
A small consolation—and little he could do about it for now. As infuriating as it was that Colton, once again, had let the Fargos slip past him, Oren knew better than to voice his displeasure too much. Like it or not, he needed Colton. That didn’t mean he intended to let Colton do as he pleased. Oren had Bruno to keep an eye on Colton’s men, which meant there was little they could do without him knowing.
Distrust, unfortunately, came with the territory. Someone had stolen the Ghost from right beneath his nose, and when he found out who was responsible, he fully intended to exact his revenge.
For now, though, the Fargos were his main concern. The photo of Remi on the balcony bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He didn’t like the fact that they’d gotten that close without him knowing it.
He’d like it a lot better when they were dead.
60
Remi joined Sam at the open window, where the early-morning sun turned the fountain’s shimmering mist a pale silver as it rose from beneath the two horses pulling Neptune on his shell-shaped chariot. The soothing sound of rushing water almost muted the voices of the dozens of tourists packed around the base, watched over by the two carabinieri officers whose patrol cars were parked nearby. They were, apparently, permanent fixtures during the daytime.
“I wonder how many reports those officers take each day. Pickpockets, lost kids . . .”
When he didn’t respond, she checked the direction of his gaze and noticed he appeared lost in thought. “Sam?”
“Sorry. I was trying to figure out how we can get out of here if Oliver and Chad are being followed.”
“You don’t think they’d come in from the direction of the fountain square, do you?”
“I doubt it. The standard route for the taxis is to drop everyone near the front of our building.” He walked to the window on their left, this one facing north. Remi followed him. The fourth floor gave them a clear view down the narrow cobbled street that led out to the main road. Within the few seconds they stood there, two taxis pulled up, dropping off passengers who came to see the fountain. “What we need is a quick getaway. We don’t want to be trapped up here if Oliver and Chad are spotted ringing the doorbell downstairs.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and they won’t be followed.”