White Lies (A Twisted Fate Series) (Volume 1) (24 page)

Nonno sat forward. “Alfonso never mentioned anything to me. I’d have to see a picture of Trent to know if I recognized him.” Carson handed Nonno his phone. He studied it with his eyebrows bunched. “He looks familiar. He might have been here a time or two when I stopped by, but nothing about it seems significant.”

It was odd—no one knew what Dad referred to in his letter. Especially Nonno. It was a double-edged sword—not knowing drove me crazy… knowing meant something else had to happen. Which was the worse of the two? I wasn’t sure.

Bennett stood. “I’ll have my guys on it, too. These bastards won’t know what hit them by the time we’re done.”

Before Alex had supposedly left for deployment, Nonno hadn’t met him. During our brief relationship prior, Nonno had been in Italy, visiting family. Needless to say, I believed Nonno knew I’d made a mistake from the moment I announced we were married. The look of disapproval was not on his face now, but it had been replaced with something else.

I needed a break, so I excused myself to grab a quick snack in the kitchen. The conversation had moved on to precautions that were going to be taken at their offices just in case. Luckily, Mildred had been to the store recently since there were fresh-baked banana nut muffins on a tray on the white marble counter tops. The cinnamon Mildred added created the perfect concoction, and she insisted the bananas were green. I loved them.

Nonno strolled in. No doubt he wanted to dig a little deeper, which I expected, but I’d hoped it would be tomorrow after I had slept.

“Baby girl, what do you think of all this?”

Rolling my neck, I responded, “Which part?”

“Your dad.”

He shot straight to the tough part. “I’m not sure. I just wish I knew why. He says it was to protect me, but what in the world did I need protecting from? It’s not like Dad was involved in something illegal. It just doesn’t make sense.” My shoulders drooped.

Nonno hugged me. “It doesn’t to me, either. But we have to remember that your dad kept his family his number one priority. Your dad had a reason, and we have to trust in that reason.”

Nonno helped put it into perspective. After all that had happened, it was hard to trust, but Dad had loved me unconditionally. That was something I would never doubt.

I took a step back, knowing the questions weren’t over.

“Now, let’s talk about Alex.”

I stared off at the opposite wall as I let all my thoughts spill out. “I keep thinking how stupid I was. How many mistakes I made. I hate Alex. I hate him with every fiber of my being for betraying me and my family like he did. And then I get mad at myself when I feel guilty for hating him. For the last year, he tried to tear us all apart and isolate me. I should be able to hate him without the guilt.” I looked down at the floor. “But I don’t.”

Nonno put his arms around me. “Alex did all those things. I asked your dad what in the hell you saw in him. Do you know what his response was?” I shook my head. “Prior to Alex being deployed, your dad said you guys were a match made in heaven. He saw two spirits completing each other. In essence, he saw the love he’d had with your mother. Your dad believed Alex was your soulmate.”

A tear slipped free. “It was all a trick. Fabricated.”

His grip tightened as he consoled me. “It was. Baby girl, for some reason this is your journey. It’s not finished yet. I’m not disappointed in you. I hate that your road to love has been more difficult than most, but you’ll get there. And the love will be that much sweeter.”

Tack popped into my head. Was the journey leading me to him? I knew I felt something pure when I was near him.

I hugged Nonno, cherishing his wisdom. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Let’s go back to the living room and enjoy the evening with family who loves you unconditionally. We can take everyone some of the muffins Mildred made.”

Sounded like the perfect plan.

C
ompany had left about an hour ago, and Carson excused himself about ten minutes ago when Francesca called. I was enjoying the silence for the time being. The effects of jet lag took their toll. My phone vibrated.

Trent: I’m pulling up to the gate.

Me: Thanks for letting me know.

It was still awkward around Trent. He had a secret about my father he’d sworn to keep unless something happened. Yeah, it was messed up. I wondered what they talked about. Trent said my father spoke of me often. Had he mentioned any disappointment about me marrying Alex?

When the doorbell did its fancy chime, Andre went to the door. From the text message, I knew Trent had arrived, but Andre insisted it was protocol for him to answer. I glanced down the hall, hoping Carson had finished his call.

There was more security around the house. A man guarded the gate, and two more were stationed around the perimeter. In addition, I had a new security system—top of the line.

Trent insisted it was necessary. For the time being, I agreed.

I waited in the family room, sipping mango water. It was refreshing and hopefully gave me the energy boost I desperately needed.

“Evening, Ms. Russo. Thanks for coming back so quickly.”

Rising, I greeted him. “Come in. Would you like anything to drink?”

“I’m good. Thank you.” He wore jeans and a T-shirt—very casual. A sense of familiarity came over me again. I wasn’t sure where I had met him before. For a second, I racked my brain if I had met him somewhere. Nothing came. “Sorry for the attire. I’ve been working from home all day.”

It was a little weird that he knew what I’d been thinking. “No worries. I’ve been on a plane for what seems like forever.”

“I hate jet lag, too.”

Another silence fell as I listened to his accent. Tack and Trent were from Ireland, but the dialects were from different regions.

Tack.

Shit!
In all the chaos
,
I’d forgotten to let Tack know I made it home
. Double shit.
I’d call him later.

I gestured toward the upholstered chair. “Please have a seat.”

Sitting, he positioned himself on the edge of the chair. His knee bounced. “Is Carson joining us?”

“He may. He’s on a phone call. You can go ahead and start.” Glancing down the hall, I could see the door was still shut. You could hear the doorbell from the study, so if Carson was still on the phone with Francesca, it had to be important. I’d fill him in later. I flexed my fingers against the dark leather couch and crossed my legs at the ankle.

Trent took a steadying breath.
Why is he nervous?
“There’s a reason your father’s Botticelli is in the Uffizi.”

That was an odd lead-in, and then it clicked. “What?” The air nearly left me.

The statement was thrown out there—I knew my eyes bugged out. I’d never known the reason for the request in his will; the letter I received with the will left no explanation. “H-how—” I cleared my throat. “How do you know?”

Trent rubbed his forehead. “While you were in Italy, I found something. And this something means I need to tell you everything.”

This had to be the incident that had been kept from me. This was it. But… that meant something bad had been unearthed that led to me needing to know. By the look on Trent’s face, this wasn’t good. I set my drink on the table and re-crossed my legs, trying to prepare myself.

I had survived Mom’s, Dad’s, and Alex’s deaths. I would survive this.

“Please just tell me, Trent.” My voice grew stronger.

I remained silent as my mind churned with thoughts. “Nine months ago, the Botticelli was stolen while on loan for a local exhibit. You were away at college. It was a month after you met Alex. Your father and I were already good friends. He contacted me immediately. Everything was kept low key. I found it quickly. The scene was clear when we got to the warehouse to retrieve the painting.”

Trent spoke in fast and short sentences making it hard to follow. I had to pause for a second before I asked, “Why didn’t I know about this?”

I knew I sounded like a broken record, but I didn’t understand the need to keep something such as a stolen painting from me.

Trent’s crystal-clear green eyes met mine as he relayed the story. “Let me backtrack for a second. When the Botticelli was taken, there were fingerprints left all over the scene. Nothing identifiable. We found two sets. One set of prints was professionally removed, leaving only indiscernible smudges from the oil on his fingers. I almost missed it. The other set was poorly removed and left a scar pattern, almost like a finger print, which would be easily identifiable.” He sighed. “Your dad didn’t want you to worry. He didn’t come to that decision lightly.”

I’d never imagined. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think the painting had been stolen. “Were the thieves found?”

As an answer, the set of his jaw spoke volumes. “That’s why your dad put the Botticelli on loan indefinitely to the Uffizi in Florence. He thought if they tried once, they would try again, and he couldn’t put you in danger like that.”

So much made sense now. The security at the Uffizi was top notch. Dad knew the painting would be safe, and the change of location would take us, specifically me, out of harm’s way.

It was still hard to believe Dad kept something like this from me. Trent continued when he realized I had nothing to say. “I’m sorry, Ms. Russo.”

“It’s fine. Continue.” My head was swimming.

He pulled out his folder and handed me a piece of paper. There were two smudged fingerprints side by side. “After Martha’s Vineyard, I had a thought. I went back to Cocktails and lifted one of Harley’s prints to do a background check.” A pause. Pauses were never good. “On a whim, I checked them against the crime scene. They matched one of the sets.”

“And the other?”

Trent responded, “Is still a mystery.” Another dramatic pause. I was about to strangle Trent with his dramatic pauses. “The other I think belonged to Alex.”

The air left me, and I closed my eyes. “Think?”

“Yes, I wasn’t able to get a set of his prints.”

This was getting worse. So much worse. “When did you say the theft happened? Before or after I met Alex?”

I knew the answer but needed it confirmed. “After.”

“That asshole!” I stood and paced a few steps. Trent was surprised at my outburst and stood as well. “Did Dad have any idea? Was he on to Alex at all?”

He shook his head. “Your dad asked me to look into Alex later after you got married. I found no surprises. Military background. Only child. Lived in Jersey as a kid. There wasn’t anything suspicious to make him a suspect.”

Sitting, I cradled my head for a second. Harley had been one of the thieves. He was in on the scam with Alex. Having Commander Taylor put a tap on my phone and follow me confirmed that. At Cocktails, Harley acted as if he hadn’t known me. “Did you try to get his prints before he died?”

“No. I had no reason to.”

I massaged my temples. “What’s next?”

At this point, I wanted to keep Trent onboard. Carson assured me he was on the up and up.

“I think we should keep security tight. You mentioned an art show on the plane; do you have any other commitments after this art show?”

I had a feeling I was about to become a prisoner in my own home. “No, my schedule is clean.”

“For what it’s worth, Ms. Russo, I am sorry we kept you in the dark. I know this must be difficult.”

I searched his face. There were no threatening or malicious vibes coming off him. Something still wasn’t adding up. “I’m still just surprised he never mentioned anything about you.”

Trent met my gaze head on. “In the beginning, we were acquaintances. Your dad helped me get into security at the major art galleries. About five or six months after we met, he saw me. It had been about two months since we last talked, and I’d been promoted to head of security. He invited me out for an espresso.”

My lips turned up. “Dad loved getting to know people over espresso.”

A chuckle came from Trent. “He did. I came to enjoy espressos because of your dad.” Trent cleared his throat and then dragged a hand through his hair. “While we drank, he asked me what I wanted in life. I think he put it as ‘what did I see my canvas looking like.’”

I sat back, lost in the story of Dad. It was similar to getting a rare unexpected prize that made him feel a little closer. After he died, I was frightened I would forget the essence of Dad—the small and special things that made him
Dad
. This refreshed it and made it seem as if he were here.

I hung on Trent’s every word, and he seemed to relax. “I told him about my dreams of always wanting to own a security firm. How when I was a child, my parents had been killed in a bombing because of lack of security. It’s what drives me to keep people from reliving what I had. We went our separate ways that night. A few weeks later, your Dad called me and asked me to meet him again. Alfonso told me if I showed him I was ready to run my company, he would help. I busted my ass pulling it all together. We kept talking and got to know each other better. Next, he introduced me to Carson. He called on me to help after the theft, and I dropped everything. Alfonso was my mentor. He reminded me what it was like to have a father again.”