Page 30 of Ruin Me With Lies
“Vale?Is that the priest?”
He grunts in confirmation.
Vale Fontana is their uncle and Luca’s father.But I’m not supposed to know that.
“Hmm.”I take a drink of lemonade.“The priest and the sinners.Interesting family.”
Lorenzo ignores me, already checking in with Tazi about the bartender.
Tazi later confirms the woman is from Fair Cove, not The Pink House.
Fair Cove is a Castello-owned apartment complex downtown that houses their expatriate employees.Unlike The Pink House girls, Fair Cove residents are just workers on permits.Paying tenants.No tight restrictions, no constant oversight.
Which makes the bartender’s actions strange.She could meet up with whoever, wherever, whenever outside of working hours.There’s no need for her to sneak aroundinsidea Castello-owned operation.
So, why risk it?
Thirty minutes later, Lorenzo pushes back from his desk.“I’m gonna head out back and keep him distracted.Wait a few minutes, then go.”
Thank hell.I’m itching to get out of here and get in some movement before my brain fries.All this sitting around, staring at a screen, hasn’t been good for my brain or my gains.
I’m a hyper-learner.A doer.Easily bored, always adapting, always on the prowl for something new to sink my teeth into.
These last few weeks is the most stagnant I’ve ever been.
Lorenzo’s phone buzzes.He checks it.His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare.There goes his focus and his mood.Even as he leaves the room, his eyes stay glued to the screen.
For as long as he’s been stalking that oblivious woman, one would think he would’ve done something by now.But he clearly has no intention of taking her for himself.So, what does he get out of it?
After packing up my devices, I give it ten minutes before slipping out of the room.
As soon as I step into the hall, the delectable scent of vanilla, sugar, and baked dough hits, and an appreciative hum escapes me.
Cora must be baking.
As I pass the Mediterranean-style kitchen, a tray of fresh-baked goodies on the island catches my eye, stopping my lickerish ass in my tracks.
Looksyummy.But Cora isn’t around for me to beg some off her, and I need to get out of here before the man who wants to kill me sees me.
I resume my quiet escape.
Then stop.
Glance around like a crook before turning back and tiptoeing to the kitchen island.To the tray piled with assorted cookies and biscotti.
Hmm.
I rip off a sheet of paper-towel, pluck up two treats, and wrap them up.Then grab a third—an amaretti cookie—and bite into it.
“Mhmmhm, ohmyghard, so goofd,” I sing through a full mouth.
“Your offenses just keep piling up, rule breaker.”
At the sound ofthatvoice, my body goes rigid.Momentarily.
Goddammit, Lorenzo.You hadonejob.
No doubt he’s off in a corner somewhere fuming at his phone screen.
