Page 57 of The Hitman's Secret Baby
No one makes the mistake of speaking.
The scent of strong espresso hits first, followed by warm tomato and garlic wafting from a pan on the stove.
Rosa has made eggs, thick slices of pancetta, and warm, crusty bread cut straight from the loaf.
I eat with my hands, tearing bread, chasing the yolk with a corner of it, my body on autopilot while my mind drifts back to Aria.
She hasn't called.
Hasn't texted.
I swallow hard and finish the coffee in one burning gulp.
Just then, Lorenzo appears in the doorway, looking vaguely apologetic. "Boss wants to see you. Office."
I nod, pushing back the chair, and make my way to the study, curtained from the sunlight that glints off the white gravel outside.
Luca sits behind the desk, his jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled, looking every inch the man who doesn't need a gun within reach to remind you who owns the world you walk in.
He doesn't offer a seat.
That's how I know this is business.
"There's a situation," he says, pulling a file from the drawer and flipping it open. "Antonio Ferri."
I lift a brow, silent.
"You remember him?" Luca continues, his eyes flicking up to me. "Used to run collections on the east side. Solid for years. But apparently, he's gotten clever. Started a shylock business in our name. Charging ten times what we allow. Beating debtors. Threatening their families. All without kicking up a scent."
I crack my neck to the side. "That a fact?"
"Two of the clients showed up on Blanco's radar. One of them is a cousin to someone in the Cortese crew, and if this shit festers, it reflects on us."
"Blanco vouched for him."
Luca nods. "Which is why I want this clean. Sit him down. See if he folds. But if he keeps the act up..."
He doesn't finish the sentence.
I tilt my head. "Where's the meeting?"
"Blanco picked a place. Cafe Orange. Belvedere Street. Nice, public. And quiet enough."
I take the file, flicking it shut. "Anything else?"
Luca lifts his gaze. "Yeah. Be smart. If this leaks, people start thinking we've gone soft."
I nod once and walk out.
I don't need further instructions.
I've seen what rot does to a tree when left unattended.
My job has always been to keep the garden clean.
By the time I reach the café, the sky's gone the color of ash and iron.
Belvedere Street is old territory.
