Page 113 of Niccolo

“It’s a big estate,” Fausto said. “I’m sure she had to get past their security measures, and then she has to wait for the perfect shot.”

Suddenly, one of the foot soldiers entered the kitchen. He looked almost frantic.

“What is it?” Fausto asked.

“Um…”

“Spit it out!” Fausto barked, then winced as his hangover flared up.

“…did you order a hit on Venice?” the foot soldier asked nervously.

Fausto stared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

My stomach did a nauseating flip.

I knew what was coming even before the foot soldier said it.

“Our contact in the Widow’s household says she was nearly killed by masked gunmen.”

Fausto’s jaw dropped. “What?! WHEN?!”

“Twenty minutes ago, sir.”

“Is she dead?!”

“No, sir – Massimo Rosolini was there. He saved her and killed them all before they could – ”

“GODDAMN IT!”Fausto roared.

He grimaced from his hangover, then pulled out his cell phone and called Aurelio.

He nearly started frothing at the mouth when it went straight to voicemail.

“AURELIO! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOUDO?”he screamed. “CALL ME –NOW!”

The foot soldier stood at the door, unsure whether he should stay or go.

Fausto looked at him and screamed, “FIND MY SON AND BRING HIM TO ME!”

“Yes sir,” the man said in a panic, then dashed out of the room.

Fausto was gnashing his teeth in rage. “I can’tbelievethat fucking – ”

His phone suddenly buzzed.

He looked at the screen, wild-eyed with anger –

And then broke out in a grin.

“What is it?” I asked.

“They emptied the first of my nephews’ bank accounts. We just took two million euros of their money.”

“Thank God,” I said, relieved.

“Yes,” Fausto said darkly. “If we can siphon off all their cash, and our assassin comes through, we might just survive the shitshow in Venice.”

Over the next couple of minutes, more texts came in.

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