37. Adrian

I"m trying my hardest to resist this proximity to Bianca. She"s still at my side, and her scent keeps on invading my nostrils. When I first saw her, I couldn"t believe how good she looked. I was almost taken aback by my body"s response to seeing her again, even if it"s only been days.

So, I try to ignore her.

I don"t address her, and I don"t look at her.

But then Vlad happens.

I should have guessed he had something under his sleeve when he sparred with me. I just didn"t realize how much he knew about my old identity.

And now Bianca knows too. I"m almost apprehensive about her reaction. But then she throws herself at me,saying how similar we are, the expression on her face almost dreamy. I"m caught in her eyes for a second.

Just for a second.

Then I remember she can"t feel.

And now, Vlad"s saying he wants to help with Jimenez. I almost snort. Why do I feel that I can"t trust him? There"s just something about him that rubs me off. Mostly when he seems to be too cheerful without reason.

"So, let me see if I have this right. You want us to bug Enzo"s house. How do you even know the party"s going to be at his house?" I ask. I"m surprised that Marcel has been quiet this whole time, but he seems to be more interested in observing than participating.

"I knew about it long before you did. Rest assured; it"s going to be at his home."

"But why don"t you do it?"

"Enzo and I aren"t the best of friends." Vlad smiles ruefully. "Thankfully, he has no idea you know me, or believe me, you wouldn"t be invited either."

"We"ll do it," Bianca readily agrees, and I frown at her.

"We won"t do it," I correct, and she cranes her neck to look at me.

"I"ll do it then," she says, shrugging, and her ready support of Vlad is getting a rise of me.

"No." The word slips my lips before I even think it through.

"What? I"ll do it, don"t worry," she dismisses me by redirecting her attention to Vlad, and I"m… flabbergasted.

"No," I say again and add, "Why should we do anything for you?" I motion to Vlad, a little more aggressively than I would have liked.

"I said I"ll do it, for fuck"s sake. You don"t need to concern yourself with it." Bianca"s exasperation fuels my own unreasonable ire.

"That"s it, children." The subject of my displeasure intervenes, and my lips compress in irritation. "Hastings, if you don"t want to get involved, don"t worry. Bianca can do this on my behalf. On the other hand, I also won"t give you any information on Jimenez."

I snort at his vanity. What does he think he has that"s so valuable?

"What kind of information could you possibly have?"

"Nothing much…" he starts sarcastically. "Only the location of the club he frequents."

"You"re bluffing," I accuse, given how elusive Jimenez has been for years.

"Am I… "

"He"s not bluffing," Bianca affirms, and Marcel shifts nervously in the corner.

"I"d trust his word," he adds on a strained tone, but I don"t have the time to ponder that.

"So, what will it be? The offer will expire in five… four…"

"Fine." I put one hand up to stop him, while the other rubs at my temples.

He smiles.

"I knew you"d come around. You and Bianca will make a wonderful team." He winks at her, and my fists clench. Why is he winking at her?

"Enzo expects Jimenez to show up at the party," Marcel interjects, and Vlad shifts his focus towards him. Is it just me, or is there something going on between the two of them?

"He won"t. But that doesn"t mean all is lost. I"m sure he"ll send someone close to him."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I have eyes on Jimenez. He hasn"t left his location, and no arrangements have been made for him to leave anytime soon."

"Damn," I mutter. Not that I trust Vlad, but all will be confirmed tomorrow.

"Now that we"ve decided to work together, we can start planning." Vlad goes around his desk and shuffles some files, withdrawing a big sheet of paper.

"Is that…?" I ask, squinting to get a better view.

"Yes. The plans for Enzo"s house. You need to be in and out of the office without raising an eyebrow. Best to be prepared." Okay, wow. Vlad certainly takes himself seriously.

As he spreads it onto the table, we all get closer.

"It"s quite similar to Martin"s house," Bianca notes, and I have to agree. They"re both two-story mansions, but Enzo"s seems to have a more traditional design.

"Where does his father live?" I ask.

"With his mistress in the city. This used to be the family home for the Agostis, but now it"s only Enzo, his wife, and son who live there."

"What about the other sister?" Bianca suddenly chimes in, and all eyes are on her.

"Which one?" Vlad carefully asks.

"The unmarried one. When I looked into their family, there were three sisters, and two were married. What happened to the third? Catalina was her name, I think."

There"s an immediate silence, and Marcel"s shoulders stiffen for a second. Vlad seems to take note of this when he answers.

"She disappeared. Years ago. Probably dead if you ask me."

Odd.

As Vlad says this, Marcel immediately averts his face but not before I catch a glimpse of pain on his features.

"Back to the blueprint. This is the ballroom where the party will most definitely take place." He points to the east wing of the house.

"Now here," his finger moves to the west wing, "is the study. It"s on the same floor, but it"s separated by the kitchen and the drawing room. You"ll need to pass those without seeming suspicious."

"How many people invited?" Bianca asks.

"From what I heard, at least a hundred."

"Good, they"re our best cover. Worst-case scenario, I"ll distract Enzo."

"You"re not distracting him. We"ll do it together." Just the image of Bianca and Enzo together in an intimate setting is enough to make my temples throb.

No, that"s not an option, especially with how Enzo was eyeing my wife at lunch.

"I thought you said you didn"t wanna do it."

"I changed my mind," I retort. I realize I"m probably sounding infantile right now, but I don"t want her near Enzo.

"So, it"s settled. In case of an emergency, there are options." Vlad walks us through all the nooks and crannies of the house and shows us how to use them to our advantage. He insists that the bugs must be placed in Enzo"s study, in the drawing room and in the kitchen.

"The kitchen?" I ask, curious.

"You"d be surprised by how the staff gossip. Especially in households like this."

"Okay. Sounds good," Bianca agrees, but then suddenly asks, "They"ll search us for weapons, no?"

"Yes, they will. Likely metal detectors too," Vlad replies, and Bianca purses her lips.

"What type of bugs do you have?"

"Non-metal," Vlad smiles sheepishly, and I chuckle.

"Can I borrow your 3D printer? I need at least a pistol."

"Take an obsidian blade. That should pass muster."

Bianca scoffs at this. "You know I don"t like blades."

"You do when you must." The back and forth between the two of them makes me feel like an outsider. I also cannot help but notice how different Bianca is. She exudes a serenity that she didn"t have before. She"s also forward and bold.

Is this the real her?

"What about him?" she suddenly asks and points at Marcel. "He"s not coming, is he?"

"No, I"m not," Marcel replies.

"Then what is he doing here?"

"He"s my trusted friend." I emphasize trusted to let her know precisely what she"s lost. She doesn"t seem to react, though, and I end up being the one annoyed.

We finalize the plans, and Marcel and I turn to leave. I see Bianca look at me with an indescribable expression on her face. I shake myself and force myself to disregard it.

Later, when we"re in the car, Marcel mentions the visible tension between Bianca and me.

"Did it go how you would have expected?" he asks, and I have to think for a few seconds.

"Yes, and no. Yes, because I realize I don"t know this Bianca at all. Who would have imagined that I would be pouring over blueprints with my wife, planning to install listening devices in an Italian mob boss" home? No, because even knowing what I know, I can"t help but still feel drawn to her."

"She is completely different. I think it"s mostly her countenance and her voice. She no longer has that upspeak that always made her look insecure."

"You"re right now that you mention it. The cadence of her voice is completely different. Also, emotionless."

"Really?" Marcel gives me a side look. "I thought there was enough emotion in her when she jumped on you."

"Did you even hear what she was saying? She was romanticizing killing. What does she think? We can suddenly become Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" I ask almost absentmindedly, but I notice Marcel frown.

"Man… don"t tell me you don"t know the reference." When he doesn"t answer, I add drily. "I forgot you have no life outside your work. It"s about this couple who are both secret assassins and get their happily ever after."

He chuckles at my brief description. "You say that, but I don"t think I"ve heard you talk about separation or divorce yet."

I ponder his words and have to admit he is right. While I saw our relationship in limbo, I didn"t dare to think beyond that.

"I guess it"s inevitable." I allow uncertainly.

"Is it? We"ll see." Marcel says cryptically.

"What about you?" I give him a conspiratorial smile.

"Me? What about me?"

"Come on, don"t tell your reaction to Agosti"s sister was nothing. Did you know her?" The moment the words are out of my mouth, Marcel tenses, his fingers almost trembling on the steering wheel.

"Oh, really?" He tries to put on a fake smile.

"Yeah, what was that about?" Why I don"t drop it, I don"t know. Maybe because in all our years of friendship, I"ve never known Marcel to even look twice toward a woman, least of all react to one.

"I knew her briefly. A long time ago."

"So mysterious. Did you guys date or something?"

"I wanted to marry her," he says quietly.

"Shit! What happened? Vlad said she"s missing?"

"I don"t know… I still don"t know." He repeats the words, his voice straining.

"Man…" I"m about to say when Marcel suddenly hits the brakes, and we are both flung forward. Luckily, our seatbelts stop us from serious injury. I immediately get out of the car to see if we hit an animal or something, exhaling in relief when there"s no evidence of impact.

"Shit. That was a close one!" I mention as I get back into the car.

Marcel is bent over the steering wheel, his head cradled between his arms. I can hear him sobbing softly.

"I"m sorry. I"m so sorry," he keeps repeating. I want to comfort him, but I know he doesn"t like to be touched, so I just sit next to him in silence, waiting for whatever ghost of the past is bothering him to disappear.

That night, I realize just how little I know about my most trusted friend.