The Art of You

I’d underestimated my ability to act like I hadn’t been kicked in the nuts. Seeing Constantine in the kitchen was bad enough, but making eye contact with Bella had me wanting to full-on retreat. It was my least favorite thing to do as a SEAL, but they never trained us for this type of defeat.

“Coffee?” Callie nudged a cup my way. I didn’t have the energy to take it, but her offer at least pulled me free from my staring contest with the woman I supposedly could never love back.

It wasn’t because I was broken. And I really did have a heart, so that wasn’t my problem. I felt the evidence of its beats beneath my rib cage as it tried to unleash holy hell on my emotions.

“You look like shit,” Alessandro’s observation pierced through my thick skull, a reminder to save self-reflection for later. “I know your stubborn ass didn’t take home any prescription pain meds.” He tossed me a bottle of Advil, and I snatched it in time before it hit my face.

Of course I had to grab it with my dominant hand, the one attached to my bad arm, so that was great. The quick jolt flared up the pain in my sore arm.

I cleared my throat, trying to buy some time and cover for the grimace on my face. “Sorry for the delay.”

I looked back at Bella to see her stalking my way, barefoot and determined. She immediately took the Advil from me, unscrewed the lid, and placed two gel tablets in my hand, clearly worried I’d either take too many or none at all. Wordlessly, she swapped the bottle for the coffee mug and waited while I swallowed the pills.

Thanks, Mom. I half wondered if she wanted to check under my tongue to make sure I swallowed them, but I kept the sarcasm to myself. We had an audience, one of whom probably wanted to dig a ditch just in case I went back on my word and broke his sister’s heart.

“You okay?” Bella mouthed, the lipreading game seeming the safest form of communication with so many people in the kitchen and up in our business right now.

I’m on top of the world, how about you? My asshole tendency to try and push people I cared about away knew no bounds sometimes. And yet, I couldn’t offer the smart-ass comment to the woman before me, even if I needed to draw some new lines between us.

Adelina had seen through my BS, and it’d only taken a butter-knife approach to peel me open. Constantine would use a much different utensil on me. More like a fucking machete.

He also wouldn’t have laid into her in the hallway with a warning about me if he hadn’t already figured shit out. So, as much as it pained me after what we just went through together, I had to find a way to build a wall between us that consisted of more than sarcasm and attitude.

I needed to finally flip the switch to “just friends” for both our sakes. No more flirting because, apparently, it wasn’t all that harmless. It may have resulted in some jealous psychopath sending her that photo and removing me from the picture because they didn’t like how friendly we’d become.

“Hudson.” Constantine wrangled my attention away from his sister and out of my head, which was such a bad place to be right now. “Maybe we should recap everything we know and go from there, then see how Miss Cattaneo can help going forward?” He deferred to Adelina, eyes on her. “Unless you feel the need to go first?”

“No. Sadly, nothing much on my end requires immediate action,” she answered him.

I was okay with that. I wasn’t ready to address the photoshopped image and face what it meant.

Callie offered Adelina coffee before settling in between Enzo and her husband at the breakfast bar. Alessandro reached for her stool and slid her closer to him.

“So, who wants to take the lead?” Adelina looked back and forth between me and Constantine as if sensing there was tension between the two of us.

That “tension” planted herself on the stool by Enzo. He offered her a frosted donut since sugar did a much better job of waking her up than caffeine.

“We can go through the details together, but maybe you should sit?” Constantine motioned for me to join the others at the breakfast bar, but I shook my head. If he was going to remain a standing, tense statue, so would I.

“I’m good.” I set the coffee down, resisting the impulse to hold my back at the sudden pain there trying to betray my words.

“Fine, let’s get started,” Constantine said after a deep exhalation.

“We’re all on the same page as far as what happened before the op, let’s try and figure out what happened after, shall we?” Adelina suggested.

“Sure.” I leaned against the counter for support, crossing one ankle over the other, trying to act casual. I needed to hide not only the pain catching up with me now that the heavy meds had worn off, but also my nerves knowing that the photo had been used for a very specific reason. But which reason?

“I can kick things off,” Enzo volunteered. “My team kept two of the kidnappers alive from the warehouse in New Rochelle where they’d been holding Lola.” A dark smirk crossed his lips before he added, “And that’s proof right there we can be civilized when need be.”

“Or, proof miracles really do happen,” Callie teased, enjoying busting her brother-in-law’s balls. “Because how often do you leave anyone alive?”

Alessandro casually exchanged a look with Enzo, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “My wife’s right, and you know it.”

A smile skirted Adelina’s lips, and she tipped her chin in Callie’s direction. “I’m inclined to agree with Mrs. Costa here. It’s a miracle the Feds have men alive to question.”

Enzo eyed Adelina that time, probably because she was the only one in the room with a badge. “We’re not that bad, I swear.” He cleared his throat with an obnoxious cough. “Anywayyy.” He did his best to redirect, dragging out his word like Bella normally did. “What we know about the kidnappers is a whole lot of nothing. This was a quick-and-dirty, just-find-the-girl-and-ask-questions-later kind of op. But from what we could tell, and based on what Constantine saw in the van by the party, they were all in their mid-thirties or early forties. White, English-speaking males. No noticeable accents or tattoos. No IDs.”

“We didn’t see a need to take photos of the crime scene or the kidnappers. Or collect evidence,” Alessandro added an important if-only detail. “Our mission was to rescue the girl. Beyond that, we always planned to turn everything over to you, and you’d have the FBI handle things from that point on.”

“Well, by now, the FBI has to have the kidnappers’ identities. They’ve probably also confirmed Chris and Eduardo were insiders. Not that they’ll share shit with us,” I hissed in frustration before my attention moved to Bella’s downturned lip, her eyes on the donut.

“Anyway, getting back to it,” Alessandro said, focusing up like I really needed to do, “after the rescue, Marc lost Eduardo and Chris at the gas station, then from there, you two were in a car crash, and we wound up with two dead Spaniards on our hands and no murder weapon. With no clue about motives or how much is connected, let alone if anything is at all.”

“My question is, why run you off the road in the first place? Why not try following you first to see if you’d lead them straight to where your people were holding the others hostage?” Adelina raised a valid point.

That same thought had crossed my mind yesterday while stewing in the hospital bed, bouncing between federal agents questioning me. I’d ruled out that idea, though, making the assumption Eduardo and Chris⁠—

“Shit,” I cut off my own thoughts. “Someone must’ve overheard me talking over comms when I was out front waiting on the Porsche. I told Constantine I was taking Bella home.” I closed my eyes, drawing up an image of the scene from outside the party. “And if they heard that, they may have overheard me tell Constantine to have the security detail tailed.” This is my fault.

“But no one was near us when we were talking, were they? The valet was getting our Porsche and . . .” Bella’s words trailed off as the pieces locked into place.

“Not that valet.” I opened my eyes and exhaled in frustration. “There was a different one who parked the Porsche when we arrived. Younger guy. He could’ve tagged the Porsche, then when we were leaving the party, he was out of sight but listening to us.” Got the drop on me, because I’d been distracted by Kit in the doorway.

Constantine stared at me, but there wasn’t blame in his eyes. No condemnation for letting someone get the drop on me.

I owed Marc an apology. It wasn’t his fault he lost track of those men, it was mine.

“We didn’t vet the staff because your father’s team assured us they had them covered,” Constantine reminded us. “We only ran background checks on the guests. And the valet wouldn’t have exposed himself to my team when he realized shit was going sideways. He’d have been outnumbered. He also may have been part of a contingency plan if things failed, which would mean they wouldn’t risk having him on comms. So, I had no way of knowing they had a fourth man on the perimeter after taking down their tech guy.”

Sensing Constantine and I were about to argue about who should fall on the sword of blame—and like hell would I let him do it for me—Enzo cut his hands in the air. “Don’t even start with this bullshit,” he said, his tone calm despite the curse. “Focus on what we know. We now have a target and a possible third suspect in the truck. We may have the shooter.”

“Look at you being the voice of reason,” Constantine grumbled. “Who would’ve thought?”

Enzo sat back down, waving him off. “I’m supposed to be the smart-ass, not you.”

Constantine mumbled something in Italian under his breath before pivoting back to the case. “We already have the staff names, right?” he asked me, and I nodded. Turning to Enzo, he ordered, “Find out what you can on both valets just to be safe. Their identities had to have checked out to pass the scrutiny of the governor’s people, but someone may have missed something. Get their locations.”

“On it.” Enzo stood again, shooting me a quick, I got your back, don’t worry look I appreciated, then took off to get to work. It meant he’d be MIA while we filled everyone in on the photoshopped picture, but I supposed he’d find out soon enough.

“Since we don’t have security footage to check, we’ll need statements from guests at the party to see if anyone remembers seeing that valet there during the time of the accident,” Adelina added a few quiet seconds later. “I can put my badge to use and get those for you all.”

“Just don’t make too many waves. We don’t need you getting in trouble on our behalf,” I told her.

“You really think the valet killed those two men?” Bella asked me. She was searching for my “gut” feeling in a room full of experts. A feeling she knew I trusted, which meant she also had faith in me.

Maybe you shouldn’t. I messed up. “I don’t know if he’s our shooter, but I definitely think he was working with Eduardo and Chris.” I turned to Constantine. “Let Marc know he didn’t fuck up.”

After a hesitant nod from Constantine, Adelina offered, “I know your father can’t interfere with the investigation, and I’m not technically allowed to, either, but I’ll do my best to see what the acting agent in charge knows. The walls at the Bureau talk sometimes, if you get what I mean.”

I did, because I remembered. They talked a whole hell of a lot back when Bianca died. The speculation over whether I’d been involved in helping kill Bianca’s alleged murderer had pretty much bled from the plaster. I still couldn’t believe he’d actually been innocent in her death, but thankfully, he’d still been worthy of dying.

“We should also keep an eye on Agent Clarke, the one who gave you both a hard time yesterday, and see what his real game plan is.” Adelina set down her mug and focused on me with an apologetic expression. “Clarke’s a real asshole, and he’s made no secret about how much he can’t stand your father. He’s also good friends with the AG of New York.”

“Because we need more problems.” We have too many as it is.

“Just tell me you found something after we filled you in last night? Get a match on our mystery mailman?” Alessandro asked her, switching gears.

Adelina peered at me, silently requesting permission to share the Photoshop story, and I quietly gave her the OK. She outlined the conversation we’d had on the deck, and I couldn’t help but focus on Bella the whole time as she worked through her shock.

“I didn’t remember. I—I should’ve,” Bella whispered when Adelina was finished.

“None of us did. I was practically a shadow looming behind you.” Great, now I sound like I’m the stalker.

“As for what else I learned since I spoke with you all last night, I’ve had no luck yet matching the face to a name in our software. It becomes too pixelated when I zoom in, so I handed it over to someone on my team I trust who’s a wizard at that stuff. If anyone can get a clear image, it’s him,” Adelina quickly explained, bulldozing through Bella’s chance to simmer in guilt she had no business swimming in. “We checked for prints as well. The only ones we found were the ones we expected. Isabella’s, Callie’s, and Alessandro’s.”

“But it’s doubtful whoever dropped the envelope off is our suspect, right?” Bella asked.

“No. It’ll probably lead us in a circle or wherever someone wants us to go,” Adelina answered, and we were on the same page.

Someone was more than likely an unsuspecting errand boy. “What about the fourth-floor apartment across the way?”

“A woman in her mid-thirties lives there. She was home Friday night on a date with a guy she met from a dating app. She remembers him admiring the Porsche outside, so it’s possible he happened to open the curtains right when you were going to the car.”

“And I was just paranoid. I’d prefer that,” Bella murmured.

“You know what time her date left her place?” I asked, curious if he could’ve been a party crasher or secretly on the guest list, too.

“Around ten,” she let me know, which placed him within a window of possibility to make it to Scarsdale and be included on my suspect list.

“I told her I would stop by later today with some questions,” Adelina said what I needed to hear, that she wouldn’t take shortcuts regarding Bella’s safety.

When she faced Bella next, I knew what was coming. She wanted to ask her some uncomfortable questions, gather information I doubted any of us wanted to be privy to. Like her dating history and any men who might be obsessed with her after she kicked them to the curb.

Hearing about the men in her life, even in past-tense format, would make me nauseous.

“There are some things I’d like to go over with you to help me widen the suspect list so then I can actually narrow it down.” Adelina had barely finished talking before Alessandro took that as his cue to leave.

He stood, urging Callie to as well while he told Bella, “We’re going to give you some privacy.”

Bella flattened her palms on the counter. “I have nothing to hide.”

“Of course not.” Alessandro scrunched his face as if unsure how to explain he didn’t want to hear about his sister’s sex life. “I’ll help Enzo out with the valet’s names, then get started with going through social media to see if there was anything posted from the party that might help.”

“Good idea.” Constantine gave him the all-clear to continue his escape path, then he pinned me with a hard look. “Either help him or go rest.”

As much as I loved multiple-choice questions that were more like commands, I didn’t answer him. I needed to get a read on Bella first.

Uneasy. Worried. Scared. All three emotions were readily displayed and gave me a solid reason to add a third option. Stay.

I released a deep sigh, deciding to put my own shit to the side so I could be there for the woman who made me crazy, even if hearing her talk about other men would make me even crazier.

I stood, walked past my best friend and around the breakfast bar, and sat next to Bella. Then, as Alessandro had done to Callie, I scooted Bella’s stool closer to me, announcing multiple-choice letter C: “I’ll be staying.”

So much for those walls I needed to put up.

And so much for my word.

If I wasn’t more careful, it was only a matter of time before I broke it.