Page 98 of Enduring Caine
I stopped in front of the door. “Go away. There’s no one here.” I bit back a chuckle, which mingled with a yawn.
“Samantha!” came a hushed voice. Not Antonio’s.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Vin. I need to talk to you.”
My hand reached slowly toward the lock. Why would he be here at this hour? Did he know I was alone? “What do you want?”
“I need help. It’s time.”
Time for what? I’d already helped him with one task today. What could he possibly need? And what would Antonio say if he saw Vin at our door? The last time he’d been drunk and saw my big brother stand-in kiss the top of my head, he’d grown so jealous he flew from Naples to Brenton the next day.
But Vincenzo wasn’t a big brother. Wasn’t a friend. No, he was a former lover. He’d broken my heart. Antonio would probably break his face.
Get over it, Sam.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open, mouthing,Camera. The finial camera was right behind him. This was risky.
“It’s off. Don’t worry about it.”
“What do you mean?”
He pushed his way past me and closed the door.
“Vin, you’re not welcome in—”
Behind him, lightning flashed around the edges of the curtains to the terrace. The weather had shifted as Scarlett left and another storm had rolled in.
Vincenzo lifted his shirt, revealing toned muscle.
My breath caught. Wrong. This was wrong. “Vin, stop—”
But he also revealed the black tube the man in the boat had given him. He pulled it out of his waistband and let the shirt fall back into place. “I can’t do this alone. You’re the only one I trust. The only one the TPC can trust.”
“There are guards everywhere.”
He waved his hands. “We don’t have time for this. Did you get the code for the gallery?”
“Yes, when we went to the gallery earlier, but Leonardo has the place—”
“Everything’s coordinated through the security control room. I took care of the guards and—”
I stepped away from him, clenching my muscles to get the blood flowing and to wake myself up. “Took care of?”
“Don’t worry.” He closed the distance between us, but didn’t touch me. “They’re asleep and the security cameras are all disabled.”
“Vin…” I backed against the door.
“Sam, you said you’d help. We need to get that painting out of here before Giovanni hands it over to its buyer. If he does that, we’ll never see it again.”
“He returned the fresco.” It was a stupid response, but all I could come up with. Antonio and I had doubted everything Giovanni said about his change of heart and business. There was no way a smuggler with as much success and money as him would give it all up. But he had Scarlett get the Casa di Marte fresco back. That meant something.
Didn’t it?
Vin’s face hardened. “He paid a thief to steal it.”
“From another thief.” My throat tightened. Was I defending Scarlett and her methods, solely because she returned the fresco?