Not Juliet (14 page)

Barely drawing
breath, Luca launched into the events of that morning, and the
totally wrong way he’d handled the situation.

“I feel like
such a dick!” he concluded, looking to Cosimo for advice.

It was bad. His
father wasn’t even smiling. He topped up their glasses with more
grappa, then said, “Have you thought about intercepting the
car?”

“Yeah. Two
problems: I don’t know what they drive – the car they hitched a
ride from probably dropped them somewhere in Piombino and is half
way to Rome by now – or even if they’ll be driving the whole way;
they might have taken the train. If what I’m thinking is right,
they’ll be on the TGV to Paris, but I can’t be sure. Either the one
from Milan or the one from Nice – both would get them to London in
about twelve hours’ time. If I were Karalius, I’d get moving as
soon as possible, before someone like me can interfere. That means
the stand-off will take place tonight, in England. And I’m stuck
here.”

Cosimo nodded
in understanding. “And the other problem?”

Luca threw the
grappa down his throat and pinned his father with a steady look. “I
don’t want to risk Riella being hurt. One way or another, I’ve got
to get her out of there, and then I’ve got to get her to take me
back.”

“Hmm… Okay,
son. We’ll take Santa Maria.”

His father’s
attachment to the thirty-year-old Sikorsky helicopter was hilarious
to Luca, but then who was he to judge? If Cosimo wanted to call his
chopper Santa Maria, so be it. He wasn’t sure he could call his
Ducati Giuseppe or some other name without losing the will to ride
the thing. Old men were weird, he decided. Weird, but helpful.

“I’ll take the
main pilot slot, but I’ll need a co-pilot. If I’m expected to ride
in a tin can all day, the least I’ll need is someone else to do the
ATCs.”

“I’m in,” Luca
said right away.

“No, no, no.
Your head is too clouded. You worry too much.”

“I can put it
aside until we get there. Do we need to refuel?”

“No. It’s only
just over 700 miles in a straight line. We can do 1200 with the
auxiliary tanks.”

“How soon can
you be ready?” Luca asked, pulling out his phone.

“Hour… hour and
a half, tops.”

“Then get a
move on, old man,” Luca joked, “while I call for
reinforcements.”

“Hey! Watch it!
It’s not too late to take you across my knee for a good,
old-fashioned spanking.”

“Yeah? Good
luck catching me, old man!”

Cosimo laughed
and went in to get ready, muttering about youngsters, impatience
and lack of wisdom.

Luca smiled and
took a deep calming breath. Providing Santa Maria performed well,
he could be on British soil by lunchtime, and sitting down and
having a conversation with Goliath Petulengro by mid-afternoon at
the latest. There was no way Zamir and Riella could get there
before him, even if they flew, which they wouldn’t. If his hunch
was right, Zamir would make sure to get Riella to the campsite
without making her suspicious, and also no earlier than absolutely
necessary. To have her there too early would be risky, since she
would be able to discuss her trip with her father. Not a major
issue, but it could push things out of kilter, and spoil the master
plan.

No. They would
most likely take the TGV. It would put them in London during the
early hours of the evening, and the trip to the campsite would take
just long enough to assure they arrive in darkness.

A trip by car
would take as long, if not longer than the train. No matter which
they chose, he had an advantage. As long as Santa Maria behaved. He
sure hoped his father had been looking after the helicopter
well.

Calmer for the
first time in the last couple of hours, Luca leaned back and
brought up the contacts list on his phone’s screen. They might be
outnumbered, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to stop Karalius.
He hadn’t stretched as far south as to hinder Luca’s dealings, not
yet anyway, but he couldn’t let the Lithuanian gather too much
power. Right now was a good time to begin paying him more
attention.

Momentarily
distracted, he wondered who would inherit Karalius’ arms-dealing
empire once he was dead. Old friends, loyal followers and business
contacts flashed through his mind as he evaluated them all,
because, while he would never aim to take a man’s possessions by
force, if the opportunity arose, Luca liked to be prepared to make
the most of it. Forethought was the sign of a good leader, and he
was doing his best to become one.

Riella dropped her head
back to the headrest of her seat and turned half-around to face the
fast train’s window. The view from the upper floor of the
double-decker made the viewing angles on everything feel all wrong,
and the speed made the landscape look washed-out. Then again, to
travel across France, top to bottom, in just five hours was magic
enough; there was no need for her to find faults with it.

It was her
first trip on a
train à grand vitesse
. Usually, she would
relish any new experience. Like meeting a gorgeous Italian man who
could sweep her off her feet and make her feel like a princess…
Until he lied to her.

She was in a
foul mood, because as much as she was grateful for Zamir showing up
and revealing the truth about Luca, she was also annoyed that he
had. They’d been having such a wonderful time… She was breathing,
living, making up the best fairytale ever!

Who was she
kidding? Riella chastised herself for allowing her heart to lead
again. Luca was a deceitful, conniving, overconfident, arrogant…
beautiful man. Her husband and lover. But he was no Romeo. And she
was no Juliet.

What they had
was love all right, and as near-perfect as could be, but it had
been built on a bed of lies, and that was not something she could
ever live with.

She sniffed and
wiped her face on her sleeve. Eyes closed, she did her best to
not
think. Maybe she could fall asleep.

Behind her, she
could hear Zamir’s quiet voice speaking to someone on his
phone.

“It was the
only way I could get her back, Goliath. Yes, she’s here, sleeping,
I think,” he was saying.

Her father? Oh,
the shame! How was she going to face him now, knowing she’d failed?
Cosimo Anziano had been her only lead. This careless, stupid jaunt
of hers might just be enough to kill her poor father. It was a
miracle he hadn’t died of sheer worry already.

“She doesn’t
have to know anything about it. We’ll be there by evening.
Anziano’s men will bring the gear onto the campsite during the
afternoon. A red-cab, rigid Scania V8 with Polish plates. Let them
go into the back field and do what they must. They’ll be gone
before we get there.”

Riella’s ears
pricked up. Anziano? As in her husband, Luca Anziano? What was he
up to now? Try as she may, she was not going to be able to switch
off now.

“Yes, I
understand. I don’t like it much, either, but a deal’s a deal, and
I’ve got Riella back. That’s what matters, right? We’ll worry about
the legality of it when and if we have to. I made the best decision
I could at the time. Who knows what he would have done to her if I
hadn’t got there when I did. Yes. Yes, I will.”

Zamir switched
off his phone and caught her staring at him. She didn’t give him
time to recover.

“What
deal?”

Zamir looked
embarrassed and a little shifty, but he obviously decided she would
be unable to do anything about it anyway, because he answered.

“Luca Anziano
traded you back in exchange for your father’s permission to
organize a show and trade on our campsite. I guess the profits made
it worthwhile.”

“A show and
trade in what?”

Zamir checked
they weren’t being overheard before he whispered, “Arms.”

Riella felt her
eyebrows shoot up as she choked back yet another hit to the
gut.

“He sold me.”
It wasn’t a question; just a realization.

“What, you
really believed I was threatening him?” Zamir laughed. “It was all
an act. He gave me his gun and told me what to do. What he wanted.
I had to play along so I could get you out of there in one
piece.”

“Oh, dear God,
this whole thing makes me sick.” An act! What a neat way to break
up with her when he’d had enough. And the worst thing about it was
that she didn’t even hate him. She couldn’t. How do you even begin
to hate the person you love with all your heart? Impossible.

“So sorry,
princess.”

“How could he
do that, Zamir? I loved him. I trusted him. How could he… He used
me!”

“He is a king,
and kings use people. I’m not sure what his purpose would have
been, ultimately, but I’m glad I was able to get you out of there
before anything bad happened.”

Riella sighed,
thinking how close it had come, once or twice, to Zamir not being
able to get to her in time.

“How did you
know where to find me?”

Zamir’s face
was blank for just a second, then he smiled. “Kai told me where
you’d gone.”

Riella frowned,
considering his answer for a moment. She’d made Kai swear he told
no one what she was up to. Was it possible Kai would have broken
his promise and told others about her plans? She’d have to have a
word with him when she got back, and he’d better have a good excuse
for his betrayal.

“Rumor has it
that all of Anziano’s wealth is due to his ruthless business
practices. That flashy car and his nice house with all the
trimmings. He’s a gang master, Riella. Do you really want to be a
gang master’s wife?”

Riella
shuddered. She’d heard of gang masters. The worst ones ended up in
police custody for sex or drug trafficking… or arms, obviously. The
best ones got shot before they were thirty, together with their
families. The thought that Luca was a gang master chilled her to
the core. She should be grateful for her lucky escape.

“More to the
point, could you really live with yourself seeing your people
struggle in poverty to satisfy his every whim while he’s lording it
over them, with you alongside him, shoving it down their throats?
Choose carefully, Riella.”

Riella hadn’t
thought of it that way. She’d lived away from camp for long enough,
she’d forgotten her responsibility for looking after her people.
But Zamir was right, she should think of their wellbeing before
jumping into making huge decisions, such as marrying a stranger who
didn’t have their best interests at heart.

“I know. It’s
just so… surreal, I guess. So strange… To have got it so awfully
wrong. I really thought Luca was the one.”

She closed her
eyes and lapsed into silence, her only aim to keep her tears from
leaking. Staying angry at Luca for his betrayal helped, but her
heart was tearing to pieces with every image of him she pulled in
front of her eyes.

The way he
looked in Florence, when he’d offered her his hand.
He’d just
been shooting at her – how could she fall in love with her would-be
killer?
But he hadn’t looked like a killer. He looked as
love-struck as she’d felt. Luca’s voice whispered in the
background.
“If I was trying to kill you, why would I buy you
ice-cream from Grom’s? Why kiss you in the Bardini? Why take you to
Orazio’s for dinner?”

Riella shook
her head to dislodge him out of her mind. He was Italian. A charmer
by definition. He must have simply liked what he saw and wanted to
take advantage. Taken advantage, she corrected herself, like a man
in a position of power usually did.

But then she
remembered his warm face smiling at her from the screen of his
phone, and wondered whether a cold-blooded killer would have
bothered with breakfast and coffee for his victim.

She sighed
heavily. Solving this puzzle was harder than she’d thought it would
be. Why couldn’t she just hate him already? He’d lied to her, for
goodness’ sake!

Luca smiled at
her in her memory, his eyes dark and hooded, full of desire, his
touch firm as he held her to his chest and swayed her to the music.
Stop it!
His lips touched hers with a warmth that spread
like wildfire through her veins.

Stop it! Stop
it! Stop it!

Riella grabbed
her mask and put it on, then dropped her head in her hands and
sobbed quietly, not caring who stared or what they might be
thinking. She was miserable without Luca, so much so that she
wondered if she would be able to survive without him.

No matter what
he’d done, or was supposed to have been planning, she needed to
stare him in the eye and ask the million dollar question: had he
been lying when he said ‘I love you’?

“We’re cleared for the
UK airspace,” Luca said to his father.

The old man
just nodded.

For a moment,
Luca was trapped by his father’s image of perfect calm and
authority. His hair was white as the moon on a clear night, but
still thick, and his wrinkles only added to the air of confidence
he exuded. Who wouldn’t feel safe in his presence? If he could
become half the man his father was, Luca thought he’d die
happy.

That, and win
back Riella. No way would he be able to survive more than a few
short hours without her in his life.

“What’s the
plan, once we touch down?” Cosimo spoke into his comm.

“You keep out
of the way. Stay with the chopper. I might need to become airborne
in a hurry. Especially if I can get Riella out alive.”

Cosimo nodded.
“Any reason why you wouldn’t? Apart from the obvious danger and her
trust issues.”

“Her family.
Kai.”

“Who’s
Kai?”

“I wish I
knew.”

Cosimo laughed.
“Now who’s got trust issues?” he said between chuckles. “Okay, son,
back to the plan.”