Page 100 of Chasing Caine

He dashed into the bathroom to turn off the tap, and I was out the door at as close to a run as my ankle would allow.

Skipped the elevator. Too slow. Down the stairs, out the front door, and flagged a taxi before he could catch up. But barely. He came barreling outside in bare feet and a robe just as my cab pulled away.

My phone rang and I almost threw it out the window. It was an unknown number. Probably still that burner.

Flowers and hang-ups. And lies.

But still, that look in his eyes earlier. TheI love youlook. Surely that wasn’t a lie.

I accepted the call and lifted the phone to my ear.

“Don’t go to the gallery!” Panic poured through the phone, his words and breath fast. “Whatever you do! Please, bella. Just promise me that!”

“This your new tactic? Instead of telling me to let the police deal with it?” My eyes stung and I blinked away the tears that clung to my lids. I’d had to let Matt go six years ago so he could be who he truly was. Maybe Antonio and I needed to do the same. “Stop trying to turn me into someone I’m not.”

“I just want you safe.”

“Fine. I’m going back to the villa. You can pack my stuff at the hotel.” Blinking didn’t work, so I rubbed a rough hand across my face. “No wait. Your stuff. The only things I actually own are in my clutch.”

“Bene.” He let out a shaky breath, ignoring the sarcasm in my voice. “Molto bene. I’ll be at the villa as soon as I can and we can sort all this out. I’ll give you every detail possible.”

The way he talked. Could there be a shred of truth to all of this? Or just more games?

Being in that hotel room with him hadn’t felt like a lie. It had felt warm and peaceful and good. Like I was the only thing that mattered to him in the entire world.

But the sound on that cheap phone. The breath and the click.

“I love you, bella,” he said with a tremor in his voice.

“Good,” I whispered.

Why would he be trying to steer me away from the gallery? Secrets. Family business. What was he hiding?

I had to find out for myself. Could I trust Antonio Ferraro?

After ending the call, I patted the driver’s seat. “Do you know Riccardo Emanuele’s art gallery near the Piazza Municipio?”

He nodded.

“Take me there.”

Chapter 33

Samantha

Thetaxiwounditsway through narrow streets, cutting off and being cut off by reckless scooters. The driver went too fast, but it hardly mattered.

I needed perspective. Help. Who could I call? My sister?

Cass would start off by yelling at me for flying to Naples. She thought I was still in New York with no risk of missing her chemo on Friday. Then she’d yell even louder about me being with Antonio.

She’d call him every name in the book, then spout off all the things Nathan had said about him. Stalker. Not trustworthy. She’d probably get Nathan on the line to tell me again that Antonio was dangerous.

Just what I’d need. A lecture telling me they were right all along.

Ifthey were right.

The taxi stopped, I paid, and got out at the piazza. The gallery was close by, and I walked fast.