The Italian

My eyes widen. “You think it was cocaine?”

“We’re sure of it, and by the size of the shipment, we’re talking a large multi-million-euro deal. It’s enough to put Ferrara away for a very long time. Thirty years, minimum”

“Wow,” I whisper.

“The yacht is being watched around the clock. Hopefully, you will get those wires in place before they try and move it and we are forced to close in. The more solid evidence we have, the cleaner the court case will be.”

I nod with renewed determination.

“Jessica, I can’t stress enough how important it is that you get some wires into their properties. We need this case to be watertight. Forty years of Ferrara’s crime hold over Italy will come to an end if you can come through on this. More than ever, this case is crucial.”

I force a smile, a fission of guilt running through me. I wish I didn’t like Olivia. It would be so much easier to ruin her life if she was a bitch.

But I knew what I was doing before I took this job, and Enrico is a low life criminal. In the long run, she’s better off without him. I’m actually doing her a favor by locking him up for life.

“What if they try and move the drugs before we get any evidence?” I ask.

“Then we have to close in, and we can charge him based on possession alone. But if we have extra incriminating information, it will only help us further.”

“Okay.”

“When is this engagement party?” Alexander asks.

“It’s next weekend. I’m going to need some help organizing it. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Let us handle everything. All of the catering staff will be undercover police. You will be well covered and completely safe. This is the perfect scenario. Good work, Jessica.”

I smile proudly. “Thank you.” I hunch my shoulders together. “I’ll report back tonight when I have some of the party details.”

“Have a nice day.” The screen goes black, and I stare at it for a moment.

Wow, shit just got real.

Enrico

I lie in the darkness and listen to Olivia’s regulated breathing.

My angel is sleeping peacefully.

What must that feel like?

She’s curled up on her side, facing away from me. Her head is on my arm and my other arm is around her, tucked up in between her breasts. I couldn’t be any closer.

But it’s never close enough.

Every time I close my eyes, I see the zipper of the body bag in the morgue slowly sliding down.

The pale blue face with the name Lucky Lombardi carved into it.

Her lifeless body kept in the freezer, as if she was insignificant—as if she didn’t matter.

I close my eyes, the horror too real to handle.

I inhale as I try to calm myself, to chase away this fear, the sheer terror that my Olivia is on his radar.

Our baby.

I get a vision of Olivia’s body floating in sea water, her pale blue face with the same sadistic carvings there, and her blonde hair floating on the surface.