Page 60 of The Broker

And, of course, he killed Roberto. I’ve never let myself forget that.

Dante pours the wine into two flutes and hands me one. “To the dismantling of Verratti’s organization,” I say, holding up my glass.

“To the hacker who made it possible,” he replies. We’re about to take our first sips when Dante’s phone rings. It’s Leo, and I can hear his panicked voice through the phone. “The padrino’s been shot,” he says. “You need to get here. Now.”

He reels off an address. I have only a second to meet Dante’s shocked eyes.

Then he runs.

27

DANTE

The worst night of my life was when Roberto put Valentina in the hospital ten years ago. I sat vigil in her room, waiting for her to regain consciousness, guilt bubbling through me like hot lava.

The night Antonio gets shot is the second worst night of my life.

Leo gives me an address not too far from la Piazza. I race there and push my way inside. Simon, one of Antonio’s assigned bodyguards for the night, is hovering at the door. A relieved expression fills his face when he sees me. “He’s bleeding from his shoulder,” he reports. “A minor wound. I’ve called an ambulance just to be on the safe side.”

Fear leeches out of me. “Well done. Where’s Leo?”

“He went after the shooter. Andreas and Goran are on their way here.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No, sir. I didn’t.”

“Okay. Tell Leo to call me when he gets a chance.”

I go inside, and Carlo, the other bodyguard, pivots to the door, his gun raised. He lowers it when he sees me, a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, sir.”

“Not a problem.” He’s on edge, and I don’t blame him. Antonio got shot on his watch.

Speaking of Antonio, the padrino’s rising to his feet. Lucia is at his side, looking like she’s on the verge of panic, but Antonio is calm. Well, as calm as you can be when you’ve just been shot.

“It’s nothing,” he says impatiently. “Just a scratch.” He notices my presence. “Good, you’re here. It was Marco.”

Marco?Marco is the old padrino’s nephew. Dumb as a rock but mean, one of Roberto’s best friends. Someone who stood by and watched my brother beat Valentina. Ten years ago, he tried to knife Lucia when she was wandering alone on the docks late at night, but Antonio was there to stop him. As punishment, he banished Marco from Venice. Evidently, the man held a grudge.

I don’t like this at all.

My phone beeps. I glance down at the display. It’s a message from Leo, who has found Marco. “We have him in custody,” I read, then glance up. The padrino is swaying on his feet, looking pale and ill. He keeps looking at Lucia, and I can interpret his expression. He’s put her in danger, and it’s making him sick with guilt. “Antonio, sit down. I’ve got this.”

“Are you telling me what to do?” he snaps. “Because the last time I checked, I’m still the padrino.”

I let his accusation wash off my back; he’s hurt and lashing out. He sends Lucia away, which makes no sense at all because it’s obvious to everyone here that they’re in love with each other. I open my mouth to protest, but then. . .

He falls to the floor in a dead faint.

And it turns out it wasn’t a scratch after all.

Fuck.

We rush Antonio to the hospital. They take one look at him and wheel him into surgery. I call Valentina to give her an update. She listens in silence and says, “Lucia needs to be there. If you were in surgery, nobody could keep me from the hospital.”

“I know,” I breathe. She’s telling me that she loves me. Not in those exact words, but I can read between the lines. I’m in love with Valentina, and she’s in love with me. “Let’s go get her.”

Leo arrives at the hospital. His face is ashen. “Dante, I—” He breaks off, takes a deep breath, and plunges forward resolutely. “I failed. I don’t know how Marco slipped into Venice undetected. He must have been watching Antonio’s movements, biding his time, and we somehow didn’t spot him. This is my fault. I’m responsible for these intelligence failures. Please accept my resignation.”

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