Page 109 of Chasing Caine

Had there actually been any tears in her eyes? Or was she playing me the whole time?

My mouth slowly fell open. The way she’d played Océane. That coffee meeting was Eva’s cover, not Océane’s. Tell someone else how unhappy she was in the relationship so no one would think she was in on it if he got caught.

I flushed the toilet and ran the bidet, then the sink.

Should I text Antonio while the water ran? I wanted to share this victory with him, but what would he say? He’d probably just tell me to get out of there. The Carabinieri were on their way. I probably should cut my losses and go instead of risking her figuring things out.

The door to the apartment opened, and a man’s excited voice began before it was closed. “I did it! The fresco’s sold.”

“Shh!” came the immediate response.

I froze, facing the inside of the bathroom door, water still running. Every inch of my body clenched, fending off the desire to do a cartwheel. Instead, I placed an ear to the door.

The man asked, “You don’t want to hear—”

Eva’s response was too quiet for me to make out anything other than “told you,” and “in there.”

It was Umberto. Had to be. Her sad girlfriend routine was all an act. From his tone, it was clear she knew about the sale.

The sale of the flowers fresco.

Oh, shit. He’d just sold it. Where? When? Did we have enough time to track down his buyer?

I texted Antonio and included the same photos I’d sent Elliot. He’d sent me a barrage of texts since I’d left him at the hotel. Part of me wanted to apologize, but what I really wanted to say was,I knew it.

As a concession, I followed it up with,Umberto’s here, he just sold the flowers. I’m going to find out where they are.

The police were on their way. My only goal was to keep Umberto there until they arrived. Unless I could also find out who he’d sold the fresco to.

He wasn’t getting away this time.

Water still running, I flung the door open and charged out. Dodged Eva—who let out a scream—and slammed Umberto into the wall. The worm crumpled and I fell to the floor on top of him between the desk and the bed, pulling one of his arms behind him and twisting it until he yelled.

“You budge and I snap this arm like a twig,” I growled in his ear, then turned to Eva. “The police are on their way.”

“I wasn’t involved,” she cried, throwing her hands up in surrender. “I’m innocent! It was all him!”

Umberto swiped a foot in Eva’s direction. “She put me up to it!”

“Asshole!” She kicked at him but hit my bad ankle.

Pain seared up my leg and I bit back a wail. My grip on Umberto faltered, but I leaned into it, bracing my good foot against the desk and my shoulder against the bed.

The front door burst open. The police had arrived. The day wasn’t such a loss after all.

I swiveled to see a man coming through the doorway. Big, broad, gray T-shirt that was a size too small.

Recognition flashed through my brain. This wasn’t the police. This was the man who collided with me on the sidewalk outside the gallery.

Fuck.

The threat.

It was real all along.

And it followed me to Eva’s.

There wasn’t enough time to release Umberto and get up before the man had a fistful of my hair, hauling me through the air. Both of my hands flew back to grab his wrist. I stumbled, trying not to put any more weight on my left ankle than necessary, but managed to lock my elbows in front of my head before he slammed me against the wall. Agony coursed up my arms, through my shoulders, and all down my torso. Dammit, he was strong.