Page 74 of The Lies We Tell

He heard Luca suck his teeth as he dogged him across the driveway to the garage. To his brother’s credit, Luca chose not to point out what a mistake that had been. Matteo had been making nothing but mistakes where Tessa was concerned since he agreed to take her from Syracuse.

Climbing behind the wheel of his SUV, he looked over at Luca when he got into the passenger seat and then in the rearview at Sienna when she slid into the back.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re coming with you. Obviously. What?” Luca asked at Matteo’s raised brow. “You thought you’d handle a direct attack against the family on your own?”

Matteo started the car and sped out of the driveway. “I assumed you’d be too busy gloating over being right to want to help. This is my mess, after all.”

Snorting, Luca waved a hand in the air. “What you’ve always failed to understand, brother, is it doesn’t have to be lonely at the top. Besides, I can gloat about Tessa later. Once we know Antonetti isn’t going to take any more swipes at us.”

Sienna leaned forward over the center console and smacked Luca on the arm. “What do you need?”

Glancing over at the two of them, Matteo’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I want to know who the fuck blew up my shipments. Anything in Antonetti’s call history to point to who he might have contacted for something like this?”

“None that I saw,” Sienna said, sitting back in her seat and repositioning the laptop on her thighs. “Every call has been a local number. But he could have had someone else place the call to his contact in Europe. If someone told him we were monitoring him.”

“Sh—” He started to say Tessa didn’t know they were monitoring her father’s phone. He'd never told her about it. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t found out by eavesdropping or snooping. Or maybe he talked in his goddamn sleep.

“And now we know he’s using burner phones,” Luca added. “He could have a lot of shit in play we don’t know about.”

Matteo tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “We have the list of his allies. How hard would it be to find out their movements from the last forty-eight hours?”

“Time-consuming, maybe, but not hard as long as they’re not running any additional security on their comms.”

“Let’s start with the contacts he has closest to Belgium and circle out from there until we find what we’re looking for.”

Punching the button for the parking garage, Matteo pulled into his assigned spot and buzzed them all into the elevator. Once on the top floor, Luca and Sienna split off for Luca’s office, and Matteo crossed the empty expanse to his own.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded of Maeve sitting behind her desk with a scarf wrapped around her neck and a mug of still steaming tea at her elbow.

“Callum called me looking for something and told me what happened. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me yourself.”

“I didn’t tell you because you’re sick. You need to go home and rest.” He stepped around her and into his office, crossing to the desk and dropping into the chair.

“Like hell. Someone attacked us. I’m medicated. I’m fine. My organs are practically swimming in the tea my ma sent me.”

Matteo gave her an appraising glance. She looked better than she did the other day. Her eyes weren’t glassy with fever anymore, and her cheeks had more color. As much color as she got with her pale Irish complexion, anyway.

She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. “If you want me to leave, you’ll have to toss me over your shoulder and carry me to the car.”

“Like I did that time you almost brawled with the waitress at the pub and got us all arrested?”

Maeve dismissed his words with a wave of her hand, biting back a smile. “Bitch deserved it. I should have broken her ugly nose. I’m not leaving, Matteo. Tell me what you need.”

Matteo sighed. Some battles weren’t worth fighting. “Luca and Sienna are digging into who Antonetti might have called to get this done.”

“Antonetti? How the hell would he know about Belgium? Oh shit,” Maeve said at Matteo’s raised brows. “I never would’ve thought… Never mind. Callum said Roarke was on his way to deal with the cops. Have you contacted Schmidt yet?”

“Not yet,” Matteo confirmed. “But I seem to recall he had contacts in the Belgian government. Someone who might make sure everyone looks the other way on anything that doesn’t add up.”

“I think you’re right. I’ll call him and Grandda’s people in Brussels. Between the Bianchis and the Quinns, we’ll find someone who can lean on the right people.”

“Thanks, Maeve.”

“Don’t think of it.” Maeve stepped into the hall and paused in her reach to shut the door. “Matteo? I’m sorry.”

He didn’t have to ask what about. Maeve knew him too well for that. He nodded once, and she closed the door without another word, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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