CHAPTER 9: Dangerous Liaisons

Aria's POV

"You have one new message," my phone announced, breaking the heavy silence of the bedroom.

I glanced at the screen, my stomach tightening as Lorenzo's name appeared. After everything that had happened with Milo last night, I should have ignored it. Instead, my finger hovered over the notification, curiosity and duty warring within me.

*Need to see you. Important development regarding Caruso. My place, 3pm. Don't be followed.*

Caruso. The name alone was enough to make my decision. I glanced at the clock—1:45 pm. Milo had left at dawn, his side of the bed already cold when I woke. Something about emergency meetings after the warehouse incident.

A perfect window of opportunity.

I dressed quickly in dark jeans and a fitted blazer, applying just enough makeup to cover the shadows under my eyes. The events of last night replayed in my mind—Milo's revelations about my mother's death, the unexpected vulnerability between us, the way my body had responded to his...

"Focus," I muttered to myself, tucking my phone into my pocket. "Eyes on the mission."

The security detail Milo had assigned was easy enough to evade. A well-timed call to the front gate about a delivery, a quick exit through the service door while they were distracted. Fifteen minutes later, I was in a taxi headed toward Lorenzo's waterfront apartment.

He opened the door before I could knock, his expression unreadable as he ushered me inside.

"Were you followed?" he asked immediately, checking the hallway before securing the three locks on his door.

"Of course not. I'm not an amateur." I moved past him into the living room, keeping a careful distance between us. Something about my uncle had always made me uneasy, even before the incident years ago. "What's this about Caruso?"

Lorenzo poured himself a drink, not offering me one. "Straight to business. You're becoming more like your husband every day."

"Don't." The word came out sharper than intended. "Just tell me what you know."

He gestured to a manila folder on the coffee table. "Caruso has expressed a particular interest in acquiring a piece of artwork currently in Milo's collection. A Caravaggio. He's hosting a private viewing at his estate tomorrow night."

I leafed through the documents, invitation details, security protocols, floor plans. "And how exactly did you get hold of these?"

"I have my sources." Lorenzo sipped his whiskey, watching me over the rim of his glass. "Just as your husband has his."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Vitelli will be attending. Alone." Lorenzo's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Apparently, he doesn't trust you enough to bring you to this particular gathering."

The barb hit its mark, but I kept my expression neutral. "That doesn't answer my question."

"I need you to attend separately. Get close to Caruso."

"Why?"

"Because he trusts no one, but he might trust a beautiful woman who appears to be at odds with Vitelli." Lorenzo set down his glass, moving closer. "Especially one as... persuasive as you."

I took a step back, maintaining the distance between us. "You want me to seduce him for information?"

"I want you to do whatever is necessary to gain his confidence." His eyes flicked over me with an appraisal that made my skin crawl. "He's already expressed interest after seeing you at the charity gala last month."

The memory surfaced—a tall man with piercing green eyes watching me from across the room. Milo's hand had tightened possessively on my waist when he'd approached us.

"Caruso is not someone to be trifled with," I said carefully.

"No." Lorenzo's expression darkened. "He's responsible for the deaths of three of my men last year. And if my intelligence is correct, he's forming an alliance with Vitelli that will destroy what remains of the De Luca family."

"So this isn't just about my mother's murder anymore," I observed. "This is about your vendetta."

"Does it matter?" Lorenzo moved to the window, scanning the street below. "We both want Vitelli taken down. Our motivations are irrelevant."

"They're not to me." I closed the folder, tucking it into my bag. "I need to know what I'm walking into."

Lorenzo turned, something unreadable flickering across his features. "Caruso has information about your mother's death. Information that contradicts what Vitelli may have told you."

My heart stuttered. "What information?"

"Attend the party tomorrow. Get close to him. Find out." Lorenzo checked his watch. "You should go. There's a dress in the guest room that will serve your purposes. Take it."

I hesitated, suspicion gnawing at me. "Why are you so invested in this, Lorenzo? The truth."

A shadow passed over his face. "Your mother was my sister. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Not when you barely spoke to her for years before her death." I stood my ground, demanding answers. "Not when you never once visited her in the hospital during her illness."

"We had our differences," he conceded, his jaw tightening. "But blood is blood."

"There's more you're not telling me."

Lorenzo stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the whiskey on his breath. For a moment, something shifted in his gaze...something that reminded me of that night seven years ago, when he'd cornered me in his study after too many drinks, his hands wandering where they shouldn't, stopped only by the timely interruption of his wife.

I'd never told anyone. Had buried the memory so deep I could almost pretend it hadn't happened. Almost.

He must have read something in my expression because he stepped back abruptly, his demeanor changing. "The dress is on the bed. I'll have a car pick you up tomorrow at eight."

I nodded stiffly, eager to be gone from his presence. In the guest room, I found the dress, a deep emerald silk that would cling in all the right places, the neckline lower than anything I'd choose for myself. Designed to attract attention. Specifically, Caruso's attent

ion.

As I folded it into my bag, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.