Page 50 of The Fixer

I’ve almost forgotten about the anonymouscaller.Almost.But the moment Leo leaves, all my fears come rushing back.

Hugh finally textsme on Sunday evening.

M? said you were looking for me.

I need to talk to you.

Sure. I’m hanging out at a bacaro with Javier and Pedro. Remember them?

I exhale in a long breath. Hugh’s not stupid. This is just another attempt to avoid me, but this time, I’m not going to let him off the hook. I’ve been hauling that damn phone in my bag for the last forty-eight hours, staring at it when Leo’s not looking like it’s a bomb about to go off, wondering if the man is going to call again and threaten me.

Hugh, this is urgent. Get to my house in thirty minutes.

His reply comes after a long pause.

Okay. I’ll be there.

I givemy brother a quick tour of the palazzo, and then we settle in the living room with giant mugs of steaming jasmine tea. “Where’s Leo?” Hugh asks. “I thought he’d be here.”

My cheeks heat as I think about Leo and last night’s marathon session. The moment we got back from dinner, Leo pounced on me. He opened the front door and pushed me against the nearest wall. “Pretend I’m your captor,” he growled into my ear. “Try to get free.”

Let’s just say that there was a lot of sexy wrestling. I tried to knee him in the groin, but he moved out of the way, laughing at me. I used all my training and managed to get out of his grip, but then he caught me again and lowered me to the floor, pinning me down with his body and kissing me. We had sex right there on the floor and then followed it by sex on the stairs, in the bedroom, and in the bathtub. And we still weren’t done. When Leo jerked awake at five because of a nightmare, we made slow,lazy love in the last hours of darkness before the morning dawn.

“He’s hunting down some terracotta tiles,” I reply. “The contractor didn’t buy enough. He’ll be a couple of hours. Which is good. I need answers, Hugh, and I need them now. What really happened in Lecce?”

His gaze slides away from me. “You already know what happened. I lost some Mafia money?—”

“Hugh,” I cut in. “Tell me the truth. Did you lose ten million euros, or did you steal it?”

His head jerks up. “Did Cesari tell you that?” he asks. “What exactly did he say?”

“It wasn’t Leo.” I pull the phone out of my bag. “Someone bumped into me on my way to work and planted this phone in my bag. Then a man called me Friday afternoon. He claimed that you stole ten million euros from him, and he wanted it back.” His threat is etched in my memory. “He said that if you don’t stop ignoring his calls, you’re in for a world of pain.” I take a deep breath. “And that if I talked to Leo about his phone call, he would kill my family.”

“Romeo,” Hugh spits out. “It’s not enough that the bastard tried to kill me?” He grabs the phone from me and dials a number. “You fucking asshole,”he screams into the receiver. “How dare you threaten my sister?”

I sit up, reeling. Hugh knows this guy. He knows him well enoughto know his phone number off the top of his head.I have two phone numbers memorized. The first was our home phone number growing up, a line that’s no longer in service, and the second is Leo’s number. Everyone else, even people I’m close to—Valentina, Gisele, Ali—are contacts on my phone, and if I lost it, I’d be screwed.

The man on the other end says something. “Fuck you,” Hugh snarls. “You blew up my car, and now you’re giving me some kind of bullshit explanation as if that’s going to make it better?”

What the hell is going on here?

Hugh listens for a minute and then shakes his head violently. “Stop trying to apologize. I don’t care that Max was getting close, and I don’t care that you panicked. You tried to kill me. We’re done. I owe you nothing. Whatever we had is over.”

Whoa.

Once again, the other man tries to make his case, but Hugh’s not having it. “I don’t trust a goddamn word that comes out of your mouth. Forget about the money; you’re not getting it back. And if you contact my sister again, or if you come near anyonein my family, I’ll go to Guerra myself, and I will tell him everything. And trust me, Romeo, I have proof.”

Then he hangs up.

I stare at him for a long moment. Finally, I ask, “What did I just hear?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s all sorted now.”

“Nope,” I say sharply. “Absolutely not. Stop avoiding this conversation. Who is Romeo?”

Hugh leans back against the couch and shuts his eyes. “Rocco Santini’s son.”

“M?t vãi.” I throw up my hands in the air in despair. My brother is an idiot. “The son of Lecce’s mafia boss tried to kill you.”