Page 63 of Bellini Bound

Matteo lifted an eyebrow, skepticism coloring his words. “Better than Nico?”

“Considering he couldn’t pin down who set up the corporation, yeah, I’d say so.”

“Fuck!” His fist came down hard on the polished wood surface of his desk.

There was nothing more I could add; “fuck” summed it up.

“All right. What about the email address used to contact Bishop? The one that looked identical to mine? Whoever is behind this knew I was in Italy with Summer and the girls; they were close enough to be keeping tabs on our whereabouts, even though we never left the villa.”

None of the news I had to relay tonight was good, so I mentally braced for more of his anger-laced frustration before replying. “Spoofed from an IP with an impenetrable firewall.”

Matteo looked ready to explode, and I was in the direct line of fire as the messenger.

“For the love of God, please tell me we have a lead when it comes to the address where the sale documents were sent for a forgery of my signature.”

I grimaced. “Rental property. Paid in cash.”

“The dates of the rental?” he pressed.

“Hard to nail it down exactly since there’s no paper trail, but according to the rental logs, the last ‘official’ occupants left a week before your arrival in late January, around the same time as the fire, and the next ones came in a few days after you returned in early March.”

“This is a fucking nightmare,” Matteo groaned.

“It does make me wonder . . .” I let my words trail off.

Matteo’s eyes snapped to mine. “What?”

“Well.” I shrugged. “We know the Russians were responsible for the fire at your old house. And when we went to take out Popov, he knew that you’d married Summer while you were abroad. I mean,Ididn’t even find out until you landed back in Chicago earlier that afternoon, so how could he have known? Unless . . .”

He put the pieces together, finishing my thought. “Unless he had someone spying on us nearby.”

“It’s the only reasonable explanation. Everything points to Popov and the Russians. And they’ve already been handled.” Thoroughly. We’d assassinated the head of their bratva and his direct line of succession before destroying every Russian-owned business in the city. The few members of their organization that escaped our wrath had gone underground. If they knew what was good for them, they’d never set foot in Chicago again.

Lips twisting to the side, Matteo didn’t look entirely convinced that the threat had previously been neutralized. Not that I could blame him for being hypervigilant. He’d already lost one wife due to an enemy attackand came very close to losing Summer last winter too. Then there were his two little girls to consider. His stress levels had to be through the roof, the responsibility weighing heavily on him to protect the three innocent lives that became targets because he held a position of power.

“Track down the notary who signed off on that signature.” The order was barked as he stood, buttoning his suit jacket.

“On it.” I rose to my feet, following him out of his office.

During our ride through city streets toward the holiday party’s location—we were already an hour late—I typed furiously on my cell, working to coordinate with our boots on the ground in Italy to locate that notary.

If there was one thing I hated, it was an unsolved puzzle. And until we had the whole picture laid out before us, it would nag at the back of my brain.

But then we walked through the doors to the suite where the celebration was in full swing, and a familiar brunette came into view, causing the rest of the world—all our family’s problems—to fade away.

My vision narrowed so that Allie was all I could see, and I had the hardest time remembering why that was supposed to be a bad thing.

Chapter 17

Allie

“Areallthesepeople. . . involved?” I kept my voice low enough to avoid being overheard.

Summer surveyed the two dozen people gathered inside the luxury box bought out by Bellini Real Estate for their annual holiday party. “I don’t think so? From what I understand, this part of the business is completely above board.”

The boa constrictor currently wrapped around my chest loosened a fraction, and I breathed a little easier, knowing I wasn’t walking into a room full of mafia men.

“Okay, so what are we supposed to do until the guys get here?” I shifted nervously, praying I wouldn’t be required to make small talk with a bunch of strangers.