The Black Wolf (In the Company of Killers, #5)(31)

“Sit down, Miz Ghita Moretti,” I say, and her whole face freezes in a stunned display, which she tries quickly to hide and regain her composure.

Propping my elbows on the table, I raise my arms, folding my hands in front of me, right covering the left.

I nod toward her chair.

“Investing, Miz Moretti, isn’t so much a gamble when you have something the wealthiest men—and women—in the world will pay top dollar to possess.”

Izabel’s gaze passes over me vaguely from the side; Nora never looks up from her lap.

Slowly Miz Ghita takes her seat again, and I go on, playing my unbeatable hand and taking all the spoils.

“My investments involve a little more than stock markets and real estate.”

“Who are you?” Miz Ghita eyes me suspiciously, coldly. “You know who I am—bestow me the same courtesy.”

I couldn’t be absolutely sure before, that she’s Francesca Moretti’s mother, but I had an itching gut instinct and went with it. I did my homework on the Moretti family all night after Izabel left me in the bar, and I found out that it’s tradition the daughter take over the reins of the operation when the mother is no longer considered ‘desirable’. But the mother remains involved in the most important aspects of the business—clients and money and security—until she dies.

I smile darkly, confidently, at Miz Ghita.

“The particulars of my identity,” I say, “are for the eyes and ears of the Madam only. But I will give you a message to relay to her, in which I’m confident will be the deciding factor in the decision to grant me a meeting”—I pause and take a sip of water, taking my time—“and approval for a purchase, of course.” I set the glass down.

Miz Ghita swallows nervously, irritably, but retains her firm, unshakable demeanor. She straightens her back and shoulders underneath her dark blouse, to stay on the same level as me.

“And what might that message be?” She raises her chin importantly.

Placing my fingers on the envelope again, I slide it back across the table to her. “Tell the Madam that before I leave this city, either she and I will be”—I gesture my hand gently with the twirl of my wrist—“new business associates, or I will help put her out of business by giving my money to Madam Carlotta over in Milan instead. I hear Madam Carlotta has tripled her revenue in the past year.” I smirk. But just a little bit.

Miz Ghita, with her sourpuss mouth, contemplates my offer, and my threats for a moment. Then she stands—I stand with her as any gentleman would for a woman—and she takes the envelope from the table and tucks it down into her big black purse.

“I will be in touch, Mr. Augustin.”

I nod. “I look forward to hearing from you.”





Niklas





On the drive back to the hotel, Izabel and Nora want so badly to be able to speak freely. And after I tip the driver, when we head back to our room, all the way there Izabel is practically bursting at the seams. But she does well to stay in character, at least until we enter the room, shut the door behind us and do another sweep.

“How’d you know?” Izabel asks, setting her little black purse down on a table and stepping out of her heels. “And who was she exactly?”

“She’s Francesca’s mother,” I answer, loosening my tie.

I explain to Izabel and Nora how I came to the conclusion.

“I’m impressed,” Nora speaks up. “Honestly I had my doubts that you could play such a role.”

“Why’s that?” I toss my tie on the end of the king-size bed and start to break apart the buttons of my dress shirt.

“I just took you as more the stubborn? complicated type, I guess.”

I look away from her and strip off my shirt.

“Well, we haven’t gotten in yet,” I point out.

“Do you think she bought it?” Izabel asks.

“Yes, she bought it,” I say simply.

“Although,” Nora speaks up, “the route you took might backfire. Threats don’t always yield results.”

“No, they don’t,” I agree, “but this one will.” I step out of my dress pants and walk toward the spacious bathroom in my boxers—Izabel makes it a point to look at anything but me, which I find amusing. “A woman like Francesca isn’t stupid; she isn’t delusional in thinking nothing can take her down—she’ll take any threat to her business seriously, especially a rival.”

“Well it worked,” Izabel says. “I thought she was going to walk out and that be the end of it.”

“Once we’re in, the gears will shift,” I say. “After I figure out which of the decoys is Francesca Moretti, I’ll meet with her, feed her some bullshit about my business if I have to, but then shift to the real reason I came here: to purchase a new girl. I’ll show her that I’m not trying to be a threat to her operation—unless she wants me to be, and that’s not likely, so it’s more likely she’ll just drop it.”

“You’re making this sound too easy, Niklas,” Nora speaks up from the sofa in the center of the spacious room.

I glance between them and say, “If I was doing this by myself, it would be a lot easier—it’s not me that I’m worried about.” My eyes fall on Izabel last, but before she has a chance to argue, I shut myself off inside the bathroom and hop in the shower.