30. Michelangelo

“Sir, you cannot go behind security lines,” a woman with a heavy Italian accent said.

“He’s with me,” said Maximo De Rossi, walking up behind me.

“Mi dispiace, signore,”the woman muttered.

“What are you doing here?” First Tropea, now Florence. Like Typhon, I was beginning to think his showing up wasn’t a coincidence.

He cocked his head. “It’s my job, my friend.”

The security agent swept by us, her cheeks flushed as she made eye contact with Maximo. I watched as he smiled and winked.

“What do you do to these women?” I said when she was a few paces away.

“I pleasure them. Just like you do. It’s been too long since you and I were out on the prowl.”

“Those days are over for me, my friend.”

“No! Do not tell me you’re in love.”

I shrugged a shoulder, not bothering to explain that the woman who’d captured my heart did it back when I was a teenager.

“Wait. Is that who you’re meeting?”

I reluctantly smiled and nodded. I wanted him long gone by the time Pen got off the plane.

When I stopped and checked the arrival board, I saw she was coming into gate eight. “Thanks again, Max,” I said, extending my hand to shake his.

“Oh no. I want to see this woman who’s taken away my wingman.”

I laughed. “It’s been a long time since our days in Milan.”

“Not so long for me,” he said with a wink.

“The plane is pulling up now,” I said as much to myself as to him.

When I’d received a message from Nemesis saying she arranged for Penelope to meet me in Florence, I was incredulous. It had been a little over a month since I last saw her, and I missed her like crazy. I was literally giddy with excitement knowing that, within mere minutes, she’d be in my arms. I rushed over so when she exited the jetway, I’d be the first person she saw.

“Settle down, my friend,”Max said when passenger after passenger came out the door but not my Butterfly.

“She has to have flown first class. Why wasn’t she one of the first off the plane?”

“Let me check.” Max walked over to the gate agent, who checked her computer, then shook her head.

“She wasn’t on the plane,” he reported.

“That can’t be right.” I pulled out my mobile and checked the flight number and arrival time. I had the right one, so where was she?

When I rang Penelope and it went straight to voicemail, the second call I made was to Nemesis.

“Hey, Michelangelo. Got our girl?”

“Actually, I do not. She wasn’t on the flight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I checked with the gate agent, who said she never boarded.”

“Have you tried contacting her? Wait, sorry. That was a stupid question. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve been traveling all day, and my brain is mush. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll see what I can find out.”

When I received a text a short while later, I expected it to be from her. It wasn’t.

As I read the words on the screen, sent from an unknown number, the blood in my veins turned ice cold.

I know who you are, and if you ever want to see your Butterfly again, you’ll follow my instructions to the letter. Tell no one about this message, or she will die before sunrise.

This was my worst nightmare come true. I ran my hand through my hair, turning in a circle and praying I’d see her. Hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t really happening.

“Brando? What is wrong?” Max said, putting his hand on my arm.

I jerked away from him. “Nothing. I need to make a call.”

“Wait!” he shouted when I stalked away. “Tell me what’s happened so I can help.”

I spun around on him. “What are you even doing here, Max? Why were you in Tropea?” Rather than wait for his answer, I rushed off again, searching for somewhere private to call Typhon, hoping Max wasn’t following me.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him standing in the same spot but on his mobile.

I kept going, went around a corner, and when I saw a woman exit a family restroom, ducked inside and locked the door.

“Someone’s got Penelope,” I said when Typhon answered my call. “She wasn’t on her flight. I received a text a few minutes ago from whoever has her. It said he knows who I am and that I have to follow his instructions—and this is a direct quote—‘if I ever want to see my Butterfly again.’”

“Where are you?”

“At the airport in Florence.”

“I know that. Where exactly?”

“Terminal B, and what the hell, Typhon? I just told you someone abducted Penelope.”

“I heard you. Where’s Maximo?”

“Probably looking for me. How did you even know he was here?”

“I just did. Listen, it’s imperative you get out of the airport now. Find the nearest lift and take it all the way to the lowest level. Go to door twenty-seven. I’ll be there, waiting.”

“You’re here?”

“If you aren’t on your way to a lift, you’re wasting time.”

The call ended, so I eased the door open and looked around for Max. When I didn’t see him, I followed Typhon’s instructions to get on the nearest lift. I took it to the lowest level, got out, and found the door marked twenty-seven. Just as I walked through it, an SUV pulled up.

“Get in!” Typhon shouted through the open window.

“What the fuck is going on?” I said when he sped off as soon as I closed the door behind me.

“Let me get out of here, then I’ll explain.” He handed me a comms set. “Tank? Blackjack? Over?”

“Right behind you, boss,” Blackjack responded.

“Good. Follow me into the next parking structure.”

Once there, we got out of the SUV we were in and got in the one Tank was driving while Blackjack got in the one we’d abandoned.

“Start. Fucking. Talking,”I seethed.

“A hit has been put out on Maximo de Rossi.”

“By who?”

“The Sicilians. I was already on my way to the airport when I received the order. Right after that, I got an all-call alert from Nemesis saying Penelope Ramsey was missing. I was about to make contact with you when you called.”

“You think Pen’s disappearance has something to do with the hit on Maximo?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“Why?”

“Because he believes you have the power to either get it called off or him out of the country and under SIS protection.”

“Are you saying he already knows there’s a contract out on him?”

“Affirmative.”

“And he took Pen to get to me? But why? I was within reach. I was literally standing right next to him.”

“They already had Pen. I’ve no doubt his plan was to get you to ask him for help, then once you were out of the airport, make his demands.”

“This doesn’t make sense.”

“A marked man usually doesn’t. And, like the message said, he knows who you are, which means he knows the real reason you’re in Italy.”

“Fuck,” I said under my breath. “What do we do now?”

“Call in a favor.”

“Where are we going?” I asked when Tank got on the highway, heading south.

“Castello Vicchiomaggio.”

I recognized the name. The estate belonged to Valerio Scaglione. I shook my head. “No! Take me back to the airport. I need to get to London and find Pen.”

“She isn’t in London. She’s here.”

“You’re wrong. She never got on the plane.”

Typhon shook his head. “She did. We believe she was intercepted before she exited the aircraft.”

My mind raced with how that could have happened. I looked over at Typhon. “Of course. Maximo got her off that plane somehow. Wait! He has a place in Milan. He’s probably taking her there.”

“He knows better than to go home.”

“What makes you think Scaglione will help us?”

“One, like I said, he owes me a favor. Two, we’re deploying the next part of the mission. You’re going to hand him the Sicilians, and he’s going to help us find Penelope.”