Page 16 of Fastest Kill

"I see where you get it from," he said, the teasing grin back on his face. "Notice how I didn't mention you left me a bullet casing with a heart carved in it on that first job? Wonder what they would make of that, eh?"

Frederica's eyes narrowed. "Do it, Colleoni. Fuck around and find out."

Dario's laugh was soft and husky in the dim light. "Tempting, but I'd rather keep it up my sleeve as a threat for a rainy day. Sweet dreams, Spartana."

"Eat a dick," she replied to his retreating back, making him laugh.

And just like that, he had defused the weird tension that came over her at the dinner table.

This version of Dario, the one that drove her crazy with his bullshit and petty taunts, was the one she knew how to handle. The Dario who cooked with her mother and looked at her with those big brown eyes was the one she didn't understand.

She stood in the hallway a while longer and told herself that in a few days, he would be gone and would no longer be a problem.

"I like him," her mother said, standing in the kitchen doorway. Frederica had no idea how long she had been there.

"Everyone likes him. It's his…thing," she said and had a big mouthful of her limoncello. "It's why Gabriella used him as a honey pot all the time."

"I'm not talking about The Charmer bullshit," Despina chided. "I mean under that. He's a little lonely, I think. Poor boy, he almost died when I asked if he wanted to help me in the kitchen. I couldn't say no. He was staring at it like a starving dog."

"Have you seen the size of him? Of course he was hungry," Frederica replied.

"Not what I meant." Despina shook her head and sipped some of her own limoncello. "I can't imagine what that bitch did to him over the years, but that boy is hungry for more than food."

Frederica leaned against the wall. "Okay, I'll humor you. Enlighten me on what the big, rich boy mercenary is hungry for that he can't just buy."

"What we all want, chrysi mou. Love and acceptance," Despina replied and poked her in the shoulder. "You scoff at it because you don't know what it's like to be raised without it. I do. He does. Try not to hurt him if you can help it, hmm? He likes you."

"Sure, he does," Frederica snorted. "For the record, I don't think he's lonely. He has been partying in Istanbul for days, probably had people draped all over him begging to fuck his brains out."

"Maybe, but when the police called to say they had you, he ran to rescue you, didn't he?" Despina replied before turning back toward the kitchen. "Just something to think about when you're busy talking yourself out of liking him."

Frederica scowled. She really hated it when her mother was right.

7

Tore's files were years of impeccable work from heists all around the world. Leather-bound ledgers, acquisition logs sorted by year, client correspondence filed in chronological order with an attention to detail that would have made any accountant weep.

The only chaos was the sheer variety of objects that emerged when it was all laid out. Transactions were from across the globe, with everything ranging from a Bronze Age fertility figurine to a sixteenth-century Venetian manuscript that had no business being in private hands.

What a busy boy you have been, Signor Alesci. Dario set the manuscript details aside and reached for the next ledger.

Across the table, Frederica had the 2019 acquisition log open and was making notes in small, sharp handwriting. She had organized her stack by client from the start, pulling anything flagged to Lucius Foscari, also known as Serapis, and cross-referencing it against dates. She hadn't asked Dario what system he was using.

They had simply started working after breakfast, and within twenty minutes, it was clear they were covering different ground without having agreed to do so.

"This one," Frederica said, without looking up. She slid a page across the table. "2017. Foscari pays double the asking price for a Roman-era lead tablet. No negotiation. Tore notes it as unusual because the seller was asking under market value to begin with."

Dario looked at it. "What's a lead tablet?"

"Defixiones. Curse tablets. The Greeks and Romans used them to bind enemies, spirits, and outcomes." She turned a page. "Serapis wasn't just collecting while he play-acted being Foscari. He seemed to be sourcing things needed for something."

Dario added the lead tablets to the pile he had started mentally labeling: things that stopped, contained, or sealed. It had been a small pile at the start of the morning, but it just kept growing.

Despina appeared in the doorway with a tray carrying a pot of coffee, two cups, and a plate of baklava. She set it on the table beside Dario and studied the spread of documents.

She pointed at one Polaroid of a diamond and sapphire necklace and grinned wickedly. "I remember that job in Monaco. Tore and I crashed a party on an arms dealer's yacht. We had sex in one of the lifeboats. Great night."

Frederica glared at her. "Really, Mama? Dario doesn't need to hear about you and Tore's old sexcapades."