Page 52 of Chasing Caine
Sì, I knew that. Because there was one thing in common with all of it: Ferraros.
Those two paintings and the delay in my project. The accusations from the young pup handling the stolen fresco investigation. I looked to the corner of the building, which hid Cristian from my view, the anger bubbling up again.
Three Ferraro brothers. Two on the right side of the law, one not. My uncle Giovanni was a stain on our family, on the legacy of my grandfather, who’d crossed enemy lines during World War II to save Napoli’s cultural heritage. And my cousin Cristian followed in his father’s footsteps, doing his bidding. Influencing my work, my life, my time with Samantha.
There was no way I would visit them. Sooner, later, or ever.
“Grazie mille, Papa.” I shook my head, wanting to speak of so much more that would have to wait until I was home. “I need to go get Samantha. Ciao.”
I finally had the reason Papa was afraid about the Chagall. Why he’d forced me to lie to Samantha all those weeks ago. Forced me to pretend with her. At least we found those responsible for the fraud.
Uncle Giovanni and his crew may not have been behind that stolen painting in the Roma studio, but they were most certainly the reason the Carabinieri TPC blamed my Uncle Andrea. And likely why Carabiniere De Rosa knew my family. He must have been involved in that case, if not something broader with my Uncle Giovanni.
And what could I tell Samantha? What secrets did I have to continue keeping from her? I wanted to build a future with that woman. But how could anything like that happen between me—a Ferraro, with Giovanni’s blood in me—and a woman who wanted so desperately to investigate cultural heritage crimes?
I slammed my hand against the wall and marched inside for a drink at the bar. Thoughts rattled through my brain and blood pounded in my ears. I had to relax my jaw and let the rage go before I sought Samantha out. How dare my uncle interfere with this project? Putting me behind schedule by two weeks, delaying my return to Brenton. And my return to her.
Sliding onto a barstool, I ordered a Scotch. Something neither sweet nor spicy, but smooth. I turned to watch the mass of bodies and immediately spotted Samantha and Mario. They laughed and yelled over the music, while he kept a firm hold of her on the dance floor. There were enough people they couldn’t move far, but few enough I could admire her from my seat.
And no man’s eyes on her body while Mario danced with her.
Chapter 19
Samantha
“So,Mario,”Iyelledover the thudding music, my brain foggy. “Antonio was pretty pissed after I talked to Thomas at the lab. I’m guessing he ordered you to watch me because he’s got a jealous streak. On a scale of one to one million, how bad is it?”
He rocked his head back in laughter before dipping me and hollering in return, “Five million!”
“Don’t dip me! This dress isn’t designed for that.”
He dipped me again, and I laughed harder. “But he’s okay with you dancing with me?”
“That depends.” He smirked at me, the same way Antonio regularly did. “Do you find me sexier than him?”
He spun me and I stumbled slightly as he finished. “Not even close!”
“That hurts, Samantha.”
I squeezed his lead hand playfully. “No, it doesn’t.”
“His trust is hard to earn. I take it seriously.”
“You’re a good guy, Mario.”
“I know!” He grinned again and spun me one more time.
I stopped at the end, while the room continued to spin around me.
He held my hands as the room slowed. “Are you alright?”
“Gimme a sec.”
“Stay here.” He patted my hands and walked through the crowd toward the bar.Please, no more alcohol.I shouldn’t have taken those extra shots. I swayed to the music, watching him walk away. When he reached the bar, he stepped aside to reveal Antonio sitting on a bar stool. Not the playful and turned-on man I’d danced with earlier, but dark and intense.
He’d chosen black dress pants and a crisp white shirt. As always, the sleeves were rolled up, and I’d undone the buttons halfway down. Sexiest man I’d ever met, without even trying. At least, it didn’t seem like he was trying. When his eyes caught mine, they lightened. Mario slipped something into Antonio’s hand and headed toward the alcove where his date might still be sitting.
I began walking to the bar, but Antonio put up a hand to stop me. Tucking whatever Mario had given him into a pocket, he gestured with his fingers for me to dance. I didn’t want to anymore. I wanted to kiss those delicious lips and rub my body against his muscled flesh. After wiggling my hips, I took another step forward.