Enzo had called her a weapon. Today, she would prove him right.
The meeting room held a long table of dark wood. Three men were already seated. Enzo sat at the head. Alessia was directed to a chair against the wall, slightly apart from the table. She sat and folded her hands in her lap. The men glanced at her once, then looked away. She was furniture to them. They did not know she was a weapon.
The heavyset man, Russo, touched his left cufflink repeatedly as he spoke. "The supplier needs fifteen percent more. The route changed. More patrols," Russo said.
Enzo's hand stayed still on the table. "Unacceptable," he replied.
Russo shifted in his chair. "Don Moretti, there is no other route. The supplier controls the port. If we do not pay, the shipment sits in Palermo."
Enzo was silent. Then he turned his head slightly and looked at Alessia. She understood. Her eyes moved to Russo's cufflink, then back to Enzo. A flicker of acknowledgment passed between them.
Enzo turned back to Russo. "You have worked with this supplier for two years. His prices have increased four times. Always with justification. Always just before a delivery." His voice was calm, conversational. "You have assured me each time that the increase was necessary."
Russo's face paled. "The circumstances—"
"Are convenient." Enzo touched his ring once. "You are dismissed."
Russo opened his mouth to protest. The guard behind him stepped forward. Russo closed his mouth, stood, and was escorted from the room. The other two men followed without a word.
When the door closed, Enzo looked at Alessia. "What did you see?" he asked.
"Russo touches his left cufflink when he lies. He touched it three times. Once when he said the supplier needed additional compensation. Once when he said there was no other route. Once when he said the supplier controlled the port." She paused. "He is either taking unearned money from the supplier or he owns the supplier. Either way, he has been stealing from you for months," Alessia said.
Enzo's expression did not change. "How did you know?" he asked.
"The cufflink. And the way he looked at you when he said fifteen percent. He was waiting to see if you would believe him."
Enzo nodded slowly. Then he did something she had never seen him do. He smiled. It was a small, cold thing, but it was unmistakably a smile.
"You are more valuable than I anticipated," Enzo said.
Alessia did not know how to respond. She had only done what she always did: watched, catalogued, understood. But she could see the shift in his eyes. She was no longer just a curiosity. She was an asset.
"Russo will be dealt with," Enzo continued. "You will not be involved in that. But from now on, you will attend every meeting. You will sit where you sat today. You will watch. And afterward, you will tell me what you saw."
"And if I refuse?" she asked.
"You will not refuse." He stood. "You want to understand this world. You want to find the door. This is how you find it."
He walked toward the door, then stopped. His back was still to her.
"You saw Russo's tell. You saw what my own men missed." He turned. His dark eyes were no longer assessing. They were something else. Something hungrier. "Do you know what that does to me?"
Alessia's breath caught. She shook her head.
He crossed the room in three strides. His hand found her waist, pulling her against him. The heat of him seared through the silk of her dress. His mouth hovered at her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
"It makes me want to keep you," he said, low and rough. "Not as a weapon. Not as an asset. Just mine."
Her body betrayed her instantly. Her hands gripped his jacket. Her head tilted back, exposing her throat. She felt him tense, felt the barely leashed control in the grip on her waist.
Then he released her. Stepped back. His jaw was tight.
"Go," he said. "Before I decide not to let you."
She fled on unsteady legs. As she left the meeting room, she saw Russo being led not toward the exit, but down a narrow staircase to the lower levels. She did not ask what happened there. Her body was still humming from Enzo's touch.
In her room, she pressed the loose panel and retrieved her scrap of paper. She wrote: Russo steals. Cufflink tell. I am now his eyes. Then she pressed her hand to her racing heart. He had almost lost control. And she had wanted him to.