Page 89 of Finally Forever
My phone vibrates with a text.
Xavier: We have a problem.
Fuck. What now?
My burner buzzes, too.
Unknown: Long time no talk, brother. I hear you’re coming to town. We need to talk.
It’s typed in Italian. My world stands still. Francesca? I haven’t spoken with her since her wedding day. How does she know I’m alive? How does she have this number? Why is she reaching out to me?
I race to Xavier and find him at the bottom of the stairs. Before he can speak, I say, “I need to know about my sister and the Russo family.”
He steps back, clearly surprised by my outburst.
“Now!”
His mouth opens. I don’t stay to listen, rushing toward the command center where he keeps his secured laptop.
He’s on my heels. “I have news about Ainsley.”
I slice my hand through the air. “It can wait. This is more important.”
“Sebastian, you need to know—”
“Not now!” I cut him off and open the secret door to the safe room.
I barrel inside and stop near his chair. If I knew the password, I’d log in myself. “She texted me.”
“Your sister?” he asks, confused.
“Or someone who speaks Italian and knows my number.” I don’t tell him it’s the burner phone.
“Shit.” He drops onto the chair and logs in, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He brings up his intel on her and connects with one of his sources.
“I don’t see anything new. She’s still in Florence. Still married. No contact with your father.”
His source replies.Nothing new on our end. The mouse is quiet, behaving as usual.
He looks at me. “What did the text say?”
“Nothing. Hello. It’s been a long time.” I leave out that she wants to talk. “How did she get my number?” The burner number, of all things. It hits me. Paolo. Could the man be compromised? I don’t see how. I vetted him myself.
Panic charges my veins. “Keep searching for anything.” I leave the room and take shelter in my old bedroom upstairs.
I call Paolo.
He answers on the second ring. “Ciao?”
“Are you compromised?”
“No, sir.”
“Sebastian?” Francesca says, her voice older but familiar. “I forced Paolo to tell me. I’ve known him for years. He’s my personal informant on Father. No one in the Russo family knows, not even Gabriele.”
“How do I know that? We haven’t spoken in years.”
Her accent is thicker too, but then, she’s been living in Italy for some time now.
