Page 178 of Niccolo

“Because I think it’s possible your room might be bugged.”

Ofcoursehe reacted.

“WHAT?!”

I sighed in exasperation. “I just told you not to react.”

“I didn’t say anything – ”

“No, you just freaked out like I told you there’s a bomb in the room.”

“…IS there?!”

“No!” I laughed. He must still be drunk. “Well, not as far as I KNOW, and I assume it’s extremely doubtful. But are you going to be quiet when I tell you the thing I need to tell you?”

“Yes,”he said crankily.“Go ahead.”

“I think Fausto might have already gotten to your so-called ‘friends’ in the Syndicate.”

This time, he followed my advice.

“Why do you say that?”he replied in a neutral voice.

“As I already mentioned, I can’t tell you how I know. And I’m not absolutely certain.”

Ever the one for figures, Roberto tried to quantify everything.“How certain are you, would you say? If you had to put a number on it?”

“At least 80%. Maybe more. So like I said, be careful. This thing with the Syndicate… if it starts to go sideways, get OUT.”

“I’m coming back with the money, Niccolo,”he said in a quiet voice.

My heart ached.

Massimo was already in danger, and I’d nearly lost Dario to an assassin’s bullet.

The thought of my twin brother dying…

“You’re a million times more important than any amount of money, Roberto,” I said quietly.

He sounded touched by the concern in my voice.“Thank you… but I’m still coming back with it.”

“Alright,” I said grudgingly. “Just be careful.”

“I will.”

I remembered something else I needed to attend to when I got home. “By the way, I need the names of the bank managers who authorized the wire transfers.”

“Do you have a piece of paper?”

“Yes, hold on.”

I didn’t have earbuds – and I didn’t want to put him on speaker so I could jot the numbers down in a text file – so I went to the departure desk and asked for a pen and something to write on.

And then – Roberto being Roberto – he rattled off the banks and managers’ names from memory.

“Good,” I said, then teased him a little. “Talk to you soon, little brother.”

I’d beaten him out of the womb by 10 minutes. Throughout our childhood, I’d called him ‘little brother’ and told him he had to obey me.

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