Page 71 of The Broker

I gesture to Leo and draw Valentina away. “We’re going to find her, Valentina. I promise you. He wants his money; he’s not going to hurt Angelica. We have time.” My jaw tightens. “He took a child. I’m going to make him pay.”

“Yeah.” Her voice is flat. “I know.”

“But I need you.” I grip her shoulders and stare into her eyes. “Don’t fall to pieces now, sparrow. I can’t do this without you.”

“We found Silvio,” Leo shouts, interrupting us. “Let’s go.”

Silvio is slumped in an alley, his stomach bleeding. Omar’s kneeling next to him, putting pressure on the wound. “Someone stabbed him,” he says tersely. “I’ve called an ambulance.”

Silvio’s eyes are closed, his breathing strained. He’s in no condition to talk. “Did he say anything? I bark at Omar. “Who hurt him? Who took Angelica?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Signor.”

The paramedics arrive in record time and rush Silvio off to the hospital. I step up to Leo. “It’s been fifty minutes since Angelica was taken,” I say in a low voice. What is my niece going through right now? She must be terrified. She’s probably crying, and the thought of her tears shreds my insides. “Do you have someone watching the bridge to Mestre?”

“The bridge, yes. But I can’t monitor all the boat traffic. We need more information, Dante.”

“I know.” I look around and spot the camera at the corner of the building. “Maybe I can get it to you.”

Valentina spots the camera at the same time I do. Her eyes sharpen, and her back straightens. That’s my sparrow. “I can hack into that,” she says. “But I’m going to need my laptop.”

Valentina breaks into the camera feed in record time. Eight minutes after we get to her apartment, she pivots her screen to Leo and me. “I’m in,” she says, clicking some keys. “Okay, this should be five minutes after Angelica left home.” For a moment, her composure breaks, and she almost sobs out loud. Then she bows her head and collects herself.

I rest my hand on hers and watch the screen. It’s dusk, but thanks to the ever-present streetlights, the video is surprisingly clear. Tourists walk by, their gazes glued to their phones. A teenager bounces a basketball on the cobbled street.

And then there’s Angelica. She’s chatting with Silvio, laughing at something he’s saying.

Then a man in a trench coat approaches them. Silvio’s head lifts, but before he can react, the other man stabs Silvio, sprays something in Angelica’s face, and lifts her unconscious body up. Then he looks up. . .

We all recognize him at the same time.

“That’s Andreas.”

Fury envelops me. Andreas has worked for us for two years. He’s one of ours. He was trusted enough that Leo assigned him to guard Valentina when she went on her first field mission. I thought he was loyal.

I was wrong.

“Fuck,” Leo swears, smashing his fist into the wall. Plaster goes flying everywhere. I understand his frustration. First, Antonio gets shot, and now this?

He sprayed a gas in Angelica’s face. Something to render her unconscious. There are a handful of aerosols that can knock someone out, but they’re rarely safe to use. Angelica is nine. A child. What if he got the dosage wrong? My stomach churns with helpless rage and numbing fear.

My anger is useless now—it will only slow me down. If Valentina can put her fears on hold and do what’s necessary to catch this bastard, so can I. “Hold it together,” I snap. “This isn’t the time to lose it. Let’s assume Andreas has been working for either Verratti or Smith. It doesn’t matter which one. He’s got a child with him, and he’s got to move fast. Where does he go?”

Valentina presses her hands to her cheeks. “Not to his apartment,” she says, her voice trembling. “That’ll be the first place we’ll check.”

Leo’s knuckles are covered in blood. He holds up his phone to his ear. “We’ll check there anyway,” he says grimly.

I nod. “Where else? What about family?”

“He doesn’t have any,” Leo replies. “He’s an only child, and his parents are dead. An aunt lives in Canada, and there’s an uncle in England, I believe, but he’s not close to either of them.”

“Hang on, that’s not true.” A frown creases Valentina’s forehead. “At that farmhouse in Bergamo, I was nervous. Andreas was making conversation, and he said his sister could take on the caretaker.”

“You’re right.” Leo lookspissed.“He did say that, and I should have caught it.”

“Not now,” I say sharply. “Flagellate yourself later. Did he say anything else? Something that can help us find her?”

“Yes.” Leo jerks his head up. “He said her name was Cecelia, and she lives ten minutes away from that farmhouse.”