Page 55 of The Apprentice
December came and went, and then the new year arrived with a flurry of snow. In January, Sloan gave us permission to approach the Italians. He told us to use caution with Eliobecause he’d been touchy lately, and he didn’t know the reaction we’d be greeted with.
Mancini met us at the Folliero home in the Upper East Side. The house was a tall brownstone with a small courtyard at the front. Soldiers guarded the door and the rest of the property. As soon as Daire and I stopped the car, we were on alert, watching carefully as we exited.
Mancini was already there, leaning against the brick fence with an amused smile curling his mouth and arms crossed. Handsome was an understatement when describing him. He was naturally attractive with short dark hair, deep brown eyes, and high cheekbones. Tall with broad shoulders, he looked more like a soldier than a hit man, which made sense because from what Sloan had told me, he’d been a CIA agent before making unsanctioned murder into a career. Today was a cold January morning, so he was dressed in a thick gray wool jacket that reached his knees and black gloves.
I’d slid on a thick coat as well, but it didn’t stop the chilly wind from making me shiver, and neither did the layer of clothes I wore under my suit.
Mancini straightened but kept his arms crossed. His mouth curled up at one side. “Ready to go through hell’s gates?”
“We’re allies, not enemies.” I kept my tone even and professional. If I was excited to see Michele, I was trying not to show it. We’d been texting nearly every night since the first, and while Daire hadn’t disappeared from my thoughts, Michele was a hot distraction.
Daire hadn’t tried to contact me for sex, and I hadn’t offered myself up to him like I had in the past. We’d actedprofessional.
“If you say so.” Mancini smirked and gave me a knowing look. I suspected Ardan had told him that Conall called asking for Michele’s phone number, and knowing Ardan, he would havefound outallthe details later. Which meant Mancini probably knew I’d been contacting Michele, too.
Refusing to blush, I squared my shoulders and walked through the tall brick fence and the open wrought iron gate. The guards straightened, eyeing me carefully as I strode past them, but they didn’t stop me. When I got to the front door, it opened before I could knock, and Michele greeted me on the other side with a wide grin.
Wearing a green sweater and simple black pants, his handsomeness knew no bounds. His dark hair was shorter than I remembered from the club, but the new cut fit him.
“I hope you didn’t dress this well to charm me,” I teased.
Michele threw his head back and laughed. “I did. Do you like it? The sweater’s new. You teased me about the brown one I wore on our video call last week.” He pinched the green wool between his fingers and tugged it, staring down.
“The color looks good on you.” I felt Daire’s eyes on me, and a brief glance told me that he was glaring. A knot of guilt twisted in my stomach for enjoying the expression so much and using Michele to achieve it. I returned my attention to Michele. “It matches your eyes.”
Mancini snorted in amusement. “When you two are done flirting, I’ve got things to do. Seduce each other over the phone, and let’s get this over with.”
Michele narrowed his eyes over my shoulder. “Ah, the traitor’s back.”
Mancini rolled his eyes. “And here I was thinking you look good in that sweater, too. Rude.”
I sighed. I’d warned Sloan that bringing Mancini wasn’t a good idea. After he’d killed Elio Folliero’s uncle—unbeknownst to the Italians it was to protect someone—he’d been marked as a traitor. The Italians didn’t like him, and from what I’ddiscovered, the feeling was mutual. Mancini had only joined the Killough Company because of his relationship with Ardan.
Daire’s suspicious silence had me glancing at him again, but his face stayed neutral. Behind his eyes, something ugly raged, though.
Michele waved us into the brownstone. “Come with me. We’ll go to Elio’s office. He’s waiting.”
As much as I wanted to reach out and touch Daire, I didn’t. Instead, I followed Michele inside. We went down a hallway to the left and toward Elio’s office, which was the third door on the right. There wasn’t anything amazing about this space, with the usual furniture for this kind of space, including a dark wooden desk, office chair—which Elio currently occupied—and a couple violet seats in front. On the other side of the room was a sitting area, with several purple armchairs and a coffee table between them. The carpet was a light plum, while behind Elio’s desk was a wall of filled bookshelves.
The Italian don had a favorite color.
I took one of the seats in front of the desk, while Daire took the other. Mancini stood behind us, quiet as a shadow. Michele left the room, closing the door, but not before he sent me a wink. Beside Elio was Matteo, Michele’s older brother and Elio’s right-hand man, and he appeared as stoic as Daire. There wasn’t an ounce of emotion on his face. If anything, he winced every so often in pain, which made sense considering he’d been shot a few months ago.
“Young Fionn Killough.” Elio threaded his fingers together, resting his elbows on the desk. He wasn’t much older than me, and if I had to guess, he was around Conall’s age. Taking over as boss for his father so young, he’d achieved feats I only dreamed of. I would never want anything to happen to Sloan, but my goal was to lead like Elio. While it’d been a rocky start for him, his men respected him.
“Elio.” I offered him a reserved smile. “It’s been a while.”
“It has.” His blue-eyed gaze narrowed on me. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Sloan informed me that his apprentice would be paying me a visit, but he never mentioned why.”
Regardless of his position and power, he appeared no older than he had the last time I’d seen him. He had the same youthful handsome face and short dark hair, styled precisely as he’d always done it—short and slicked back off his forehead. Wearing a blue pinstriped suit that fit him perfectly, he sat tall in his chair. Healmostdared me to mess with his mafia.
Sloan had given us instructions to tread carefully. We’d been told to ask about Elio’s businesses and poke him to see if he’d let any information slip, but my judgment said that he wasn’t that stupid and Sloan knew it, too. This was a test. I wasn’t going to fail.
“I’m going to be blunt with you.” I laid my arms beside myself on the chair and settled into the comfortable cushions. “Because as allies, you deserve that.”
Elio tilted his head, a small smile curling one corner of his lips. “I appreciate it.”
“We’ve learned that you’ve been given a book. It came from Detective Diaz, and it contains knowledge about her informants, including the rat who whispered in her ear about the Killough Company. We want it.”
