Page 95 of Niccolo

Fausto frowned. “Knowwhat?”

“When Bianca saw Aurelio in the receiving line, she acted like she’d seen a ghost. I think she must have seen him back in Florence and somehow made the connection between us and Mezzasalma.”

Fausto’s eyes widened. “What?! Impossible!”

“I’m telling you – ”

“I never evensawher in Florence!” Aurelio shouted indignantly.

“You might not have seenher,but she undoubtedly sawyou.”

“Fuck you – that’s not – ”

“QUIET!” Fausto roared, and Aurelio was cowed into silence. Then Fausto turned back to me. “Tell meexactlywhat happened.”

I described precisely what Bianca had done when she saw Aurelio.

“The only reason she would’ve reacted like that,” I said, “was because she was terrified of him. And there’s only one reason I can think of that would explain her terror. I’ll bet you she’s already told Adriano, and he’s telling Dario right now, and all of our plans are about to get blown out of the water.”

Fausto slumped back in his seat, a stunned look on his face. “Goddamnit…”

“This is bullshit!” Aurelio shouted. “Sofia doesn’t knowanyof this – she’s making shit up! She just wants you to think she’s smarter than she is!”

I’d had enough.

“You know,” I said savagely, “you remind me of the fools running the chess tournaments. They couldn’t stand a woman being smarter than them, either.”

“FUCK YOU!” Aurelio yelled.

“Aurelio – shut up,” Fausto said quietly.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT! SHE’S – ”

Without warning, Fausto suddenly hauled off and slapped his son.

Smack!

I gasped as Aurelio’s head whipped to one side.

“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE,” Fausto roared, “SHUT THE FUCK UP SO I CAN THINK!”

Aurelio sat there, his hand to his reddening cheek, and stared at his father in shock. “You – youhitme – ”

“I’ll do a hell of a lot more thanthatif you don’t shut the fuck up!”

Fausto tapped on the wooden screen between us and the driver. It rolled down electronically like a car window.

“Yes, sir?” the driver asked.

“Hand me the blue phone,” Fausto instructed.

The driver passed back a blue cell phone – a burner, I was assuming.

Fausto opened the lock screen as the wooden screen between us and the driver slid back into place.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Playing the ace up my sleeve,” Fausto said as the phone rang.

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