by Pamela Aares
“I suppose you wouldn’t give me the combination even if you knew it,” he said, talking to himself.
The metallic taste of fear pooled in Zoe’s mouth. She heard a muffled blast and the sound of papers shuffling. Something thudded to the floor, and Vico cursed.
She hoped he was hurt. Hell, if the worst injury he could get going through her father’s safe was a paper cut, she hoped he got dozens and developed tetanus.
She almost choked on the childish response, but if delivering imaginary pain through her thoughts was all she could manage, she was all for it.
But that wasn’t all she could do.
She started pushing at the chair that imprisoned her.
The door to Zoe’s rooms was open. Cody rushed in. He checked the bathroom, the small kitchen. And stopped when he reached the bedroom. Just standing there brought back memories of the night they’d spent in her bed. The night he’d fallen in love. But this was no time to reminisce. He shook off the memories. His conversation with his father drove his steps faster as he headed back downstairs.
He paused on the landing and scanned the crowd. The foyer was packed with guests, but no Zoe. No Vico, either. Music blared from an alcove, and the roar of celebrating voices hit him like a wall of rushing water.
She could be anywhere.
Don’t do anything too heroic, his father had warned. So far he was well off that mark.
Cody slipped around the back of the staircase and headed for the library. Maybe Zoe had sought refuge there. The door was closed. He knocked. When there was no answer he tried the handle. No go. Remembering the slip of paper Zoe had pulled from a hiding space, he lifted the edge of the carpet. The scrap of paper with her sloping numbers was still there. He punched in the code and opened the door.
And stopped in his tracks. Vico stood in front of an open safe with a small black box in his hands.
“Ah, Bond. I’d rather you hadn’t come.”
At a soft rustling sound, Cody lowered his gaze, shocked to see Zoe on the floor by the desk. Rage flamed, warnings forgotten. He launched himself at Vico. Vico sidestepped him and reached into his pocket.
Cody saw the probes from the Taser arc toward him, but had no time to react. His body stiffened and he lost control of his muscles. But after he fell to the floor, he was completely aware of Vico binding his ankles.
When Vico slammed the Taser into his temple, the world went black.
A cold wind blew across Cody as he came to. He had no idea how long he’d been out. He lifted onto his elbows and the room reeled. He sat up slowly and heard pounding as his head started to clear. He inched over to Zoe and knocked the chair away, then pulled the gag from her mouth.
“You okay?”
“I thought he shot you.” She burst into tears.
Cody wrapped himself around her as well as he could, trying to still her shivers as well as his. “Taser. Let’s undo those zip ties.”
“He’s not after the painting,” she said between sobs.
“No, he’s not.”
Her eyes went wide.
“We can talk in a few minutes.” He sat her up against the side of the desk and wiped at her cheeks with the cuff of his jacket. Then he hauled himself to his feet—on his wobbly legs—and grabbed scissors from the desk. With an abrupt move, he cut the plastic binding his feet.
“You knew?” she said, her breath still shaky as he sliced off her bindings.
“I’ll explain later.”
He stood again, his head still fuzzy. He steadied himself against the desk, his hands pushing on the wood. The websites that said people recovered quickly from tasing obviously hadn’t been hit like he had.
“I need to go after him. That is, if you’re okay.”
She shook her head. “No, he has a gun.”
“Just the Taser. I’ll be fine.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Zoe’s dad stood at the door of the library. He slammed the door behind him and rushed to Zoe.
“I’m so sorry.” Santino was checking her arms, her face, peering into her eyes.
“I can catch him,” Cody said, heading for the open door leading out to the garden.
“No,” Santino said loudly. He let out a heavy breath. “Catching him would be the worst possible outcome.”
Zoe shook off her dad’s hands and stood. In her gown, she looked like the heroine of a film noir murder mystery—disheveled and shaky but beautiful and boldly determined to capture the murderer.
“We should call the police. Look what he did to your computer.” She flung out a hand. “And your safe.” She looked inside. “He took Mama’s pearls.” She reached for the phone on the desk.
“No, Zoe.” Santino took the receiver from her hand. “This isn’t a matter for the police.”
Cody eyed Santino. If what his dad said was correct—and it looked like his dad had been right—the man had some explaining to do.
Zoe backed away from the desk, eyeing first him and then her dad. “I think I need to sit down.”
Cody rushed to her side and steadied her as she dropped onto the leather couch.
“You sure you’re okay?” He stroked her hair away from her face and then ran his fingers along her skull. “Did he hit you? Do you have a headache?”
She shook her head. “No.” She scooted a foot away from him, her posture rigid. “He simply fooled me. Just like you two seem to have done.”
Cody didn’t like being put into the same category as Santino and Gualdieri, but he supposed he deserved it. He had deceived her.
He looked to Santino.
“The ball’s in your court, sir.”
If lives were at stake, it was up to Santino to tell the story as it ought to be told at this point in whatever damned operation was underway. If he was a crook and not an agent, that didn’t really matter. Not right then. What mattered was what Santino would tell Zoe and how he would keep her safe. Cody hoped the news wouldn’t crush her. Being betrayed by a parent wasn’t something anyone should have to bear.
Zoe began to tremble.
Cody took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. He winced as he stepped back.
“Are you okay?”
She sounded truly concerned. A guy attacks her in her own home and she was worried about Cody.
“Aftereffects of the Taser. I’ll be fine. In the morning I’ll just feel like I’ve gone a round with a bull.”
She didn’t laugh, and he hadn’t expected her to. Instead, she shot a glare at her father that would’ve melted an ice sculpture. To his credit, Santino didn’t flinch. He sat in the chair that had earlier trapped Zoe and crossed his legs.
“I never meant to put you in harm’s way.” Santino didn’t blink, and his gaze was steady. “Everything I did was to protect all of you.”
And Cody knew the truth. There was no doubt Zoe’s father was an agent. He’d seen his own father move like that, reply in that manner. There must be a school somewhere that taught operatives how to break bad news and yet only tell what was absolutely necessary. He was sure what was coming would be only part of the story. But it was still Santino’s story to tell.
Santino swept his arms toward the book-covered walls of the library. “Keeping you safe is why I’ve done this—all of this. Everything.” He gestured toward the safe. “But that is why I thought you couldn’t go back to Rome, Zoe. Why I thought none of you could go back, at least for a long while. But I was wrong. About nearly everything.”
“Vico? We left Rome, left home, because of Vico?”
She was better at controlling her anger than Cody would’ve been had he been in her shoes. But her knuckles were white where she gripped her elbows. He found himself wanting her to blow, wanting her to step out from behind the curtain of composure she fought so hard to maintain. She avoided looking at him and the air filling the space between them might as well have been a wall of steel.
“Can’t they find him, jail him—surely he’s not a threat to our whole family? We must cal
l the police.”
“We didn’t leave because of Vico, not precisely.”
Santino rubbed at the muscle twitching in his jaw, the only sign that told Cody of the emotion running below the surface of his carefully measured words. Santino stood and paced to the safe. And then paced around his desk to lean against it and face Zoe where she sat with Cody on the couch. He hauled in a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them, Cody saw the resolve in his gaze. And the wariness.
“I need to be able to trust you, Zoe.”
Zoe responded in rapid and agitated Italian. Santino winced. Whatever Zoe had said, she’d landed a blow.
“I had good reason for not revealing these facts,” Santino said, still maintaining his measured tone. “We needed Vico to take a hard drive that I kept in the safe, needed him to believe that he’d stolen it from under my nose.” Santino gestured toward the bookcase. “I thought Vico would slip in, grab the drive and go. I left the room unarmed, the doors to the safe and the library open. Placido must’ve rearmed it, thinking I had forgotten. I hadn’t counted on that. And I certainly hadn’t counted on him harming you. I’m so sorry, Zizi. So very sorry.”
Santino looked to Cody. “I got clearance yesterday to call Donato Gualdieri and offer him a deal. Donato told me what little he knew, in exchange for keeping his family out of any headlines. That part will be easy enough. They are furious that Vico used one of their accounts to pass money. But it turns out that although the family had sent Vico to steal my flash drives and erase all evidence that could implicate them, Vico is clearly a minor player in a much larger criminal network, a network that I doubt Donato or any of the families know anything about.” He shook his head. “It was very stupid of Vico to toy with your credit cards. That slipup led us right to the source codes. Our people will return your money within a few days. But at this point, we need Vico free. Like an ant taking poison to a nest, he will lead my team straight to the ringleaders.”
“What hard drive? What ringleaders, Papa?” Zoe rubbed at her forehead. “I don’t understand.” She turned to Cody. “You knew?” She scooted down the couch, away from Cody. “You knew about this, whatever this—”
“He is not involved,” Santino said flatly. He crossed his arms. “The good news is that none of the families are behind this. None of them are involved. You can return to Rome safely, Zoe. You can return whenever you like.”
Cody noticed that he didn’t say Mafia outright. He didn’t have to.
Santino turned a stony face to Cody. “Vico won’t be returning to Italy anytime soon. His own family would do him in, something I don’t condone but can’t prevent. But Vico is unlikely to survive the week. The worms we placed in the data strings will allow his contacts to know what he’s been up to, that he’s tried to double-cross them and—”
“What are you talking about?” Zoe’s nostrils flared as she jumped up and slammed her hands to her hips.
“Vico’s cleverness and arrogance has landed him in a pool of sharks much faster and smarter than he is. The evidence we have—”
“Evidence of what?” Zoe crossed to the sink at the bar, poured a glass of water. “I’m afraid my mind isn’t as clear as it should be. Why are you doing this, Papa? What does this, Vico and hard drives and, and Cody’s credit cards and”—she leaned a hand on the counter and Cody leapt up, afraid she was going to faint—“what does any of this have to do with our wine business?”
“I’m an agent, Zoe. Currently working with an international taskforce.”
Zoe pulled the glass of water to her chest. And stared. “A spy? My father is a spy?”
“An inelegant and rather inaccurate word, but yes.”
Eyes wide, she turned to Cody.
“He is not a spy,” Santino said, coming to Cody’s defense.
She nailed Cody with a hard look. “But you knew about this?”
“Vico hacked Cody’s bank and his credit cards and stole money from his account,” Santino announced. “It was his second real mistake—he was driven by jealousy, perhaps. Who knows? His first mistake was being too clever in the hacker loops last summer—peacocking, we call such behavior. We tracked some bitcoins he used and an errant email. The pros never do such foolish things, calling attention to themselves. He wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. But we didn’t then know his identity—he was just an unnamed subject to us. But then he showed up here... Still, not until a few days ago did the details fall into place. And we still don’t know who leads the cyber ring.” Santino nodded to Cody. “We’ll restore your bank funds, of course. And I have to ask that you two keep this information—all of this, what you’ve seen, what I’ve told you—to yourselves. There are lives at stake. I’ve already said more than perhaps I should have.”
Cody wasn’t worried about his money, he was worried about Zoe. And the pain inflicted by the blow she’d just been dealt. Finding out that your father is an international agent working undercover is a shock. He remembered his own feelings of betrayal when he’d discovered the truth about his dad. It wasn’t the truth that stung but all the lies told and believed leading up to it. His dad had never put the family in direct danger. Hers had. He couldn’t imagine what pressure had forced her father to allow such a possibility. Though every cell in his body wanted to hold her, to comfort her, he didn’t reach for her. He searched his mind for words that might help. There weren’t any. There wouldn’t be. Time was the only balm for such a wound.
Music played on as the party continued outside the library doors. Santino crossed the room and closed the French doors leading to the gardens, shutting out the wind and the storm that raged outside.
“How long, Papa? How long have you had this... this secret life?”
Santino fingered the edge of his desk. “Since before you were born.”
Zoe furrowed her brows and put a hand to her throat. She shook her head slowly without looking at either Cody or her father. “I’m going up to my apartment.” She walked out of the library without looking back.
There would be healing to be done in the Tavonesi family, of that much Cody was certain. And he’d lost her—that was certain too. Even if she hadn’t been free to return to Italy, the betrayal she felt, justified or not, would carve out a gap he wouldn’t be able to cross.
Santino sighed. “I am grateful for your help, for your concern. But this... this is my problem.” The door that Zoe had strode through clicked shut. “I’ll take care of her. This is family business now.”
Family business. Those two words burst the final balloon of hope that Cody had allowed to float aloft. He wasn’t part of the family and never would be.
Santino glanced toward the closed door, shaking his head. “I’m just sorry Zoe had to find out like this. In trying to protect her, I’m afraid I’ve hurt her more than any real threat could have.” He offered his hand. “Thank you.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Cody said, offering the only absolution he could. He shook Santino’s outstretched hand.
“When you have children, you might understand these choices I’ve made,” Santino said. He opened the library door. “The irony is that Zoe’s running back to the very place I dragged her mother to all those years ago. It’s too bad she can’t imagine making her home here. I would’ve liked to have seen my daughter with a good man, someone like you and your friends.”
The compliment was buried by the finality of Santino’s words.
“Can you find your way out?”
A subtle but clear dismissal. Zoe had made her choice to return to Rome, and her father supported her now that it was safe to do so.
Cody slipped out of the party and into the stormy night. As he drove out of the family compound, he knew he’d never return. Zoe would leave, go home to Italy, open the gallery and get back to the life and the place she loved. And she’d never know how hard he’d tried to keep her from harm. And how hard it was for him to let her go.
Chapter Thirty-one
For three weeks Cody tried to
keep busy working out, reading, exploring San Francisco, and scouring the web for information on cybercrimes, polo, Italian art galleries and rudimentary Italian phrases. But as he stood in the shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge one sunny afternoon, watching windsurfers zipping across the mouth of the bay, he knew his diversions were useless. No amount of activity would distract him from the damned ache in his heart. He should never have listened to Parker. He should never have let the guy talk him into playing the damned polo game. And those stupid movies where the hero says, Oh, but I’m so glad I learned what love feels like so I’ll know when it comes again? Those stories were rot. He knew damn well that what he felt for Zoe was a once in a lifetime thing. Too damned well.
The fact that he’d memorized all the flight schedules from San Francisco to Rome didn’t help at all. What was he going to do—fly over and visit? See her during the offseason? If she got any deeper inside him, he might do something drastic. Something he’d regret. Make her do something she’d regret. He wasn’t going to be the reason she didn’t achieve her dreams. That he would never do, not to anyone. Except maybe to himself. If only she were just a dream, maybe he could ease the ache and move on. Forget the woman who’d stirred his heart and made him want more for his life than just a stellar career.
But she was no dream. And anyone who believed that he could forget her? His old cynicism rose like bile as he looked up at the distinctive orange-red towers and the cables spanning above his head. If they believed that, he had a bridge to sell them.
Cody arrived home from an early workout at the gym. He listened to the message from Aderro asking him to meet up for breakfast.
When he arrived, the café was nearly empty. Aderro waved him over to the window booth where he sat waiting.
“You look beat, bro,” Aderro said.
“Long night and early workout.”
“I should be working out more.” He eyed Cody. “Lady troubles?”
“Not anymore.”
“Sorry to hear it.”