Chapter 22
The following morning brought a deceptive calm to the coastline.
The fog had cleared,
leaving a sky so blue it looked like a painted ceiling.
Livia was playing on the beach,
digging a hole that she claimed would reach the other side of the world.
Alessandro watched her from the dunes,
a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck.
He wasn't looking at the birds or the passing ships.
He was scanning the tree line,
the rocks,
and the distant figures of other beachgoers.
A man in a gray windbreaker caught his attention,
standing too still for someone enjoying a walk.
The man was holding a camera,
pointing it toward the water,
but the angle was slightly off.
It was pointed toward Livia.
Alessandro felt a surge of cold fury,
the kind of heatless rage that had once made him the most feared man in the Rizzano organization.
He didn't run,
knowing that speed would only alert the watcher.
He walked with a casual,
predatory grace,
circling around the back of the dunes to come up behind the stranger.
The man didn't hear him until Alessandro’s hand was on his shoulder,
fingers digging into the muscle with enough pressure to cause a wince.
"What's in the lens?"
Alessandro asked,
his voice a low,
vibrating threat.
The man spun around,
his face turning pale when he recognized the man standing before him.
"I... I'm just a photographer, sir,"
he stammered,
clutching the camera to his chest.
"Show me,"
Alessandro commanded,
extending his other hand.
The man hesitated,
then handed over the device.
Alessandro scrolled through the digital gallery,
his jaw tightening with every image.
There were dozens of shots of Livia.
Livia playing in the sand.
Livia laughing with Rosalie.
Livia sleeping on the porch.
But there were also shots of the house,
of the security cameras he had hidden in the eaves,
and of the license plate on his car.
"Who hired you?"
Alessandro asked,
his voice dropping an octave.
"I don't know, I swear!"
the man cried.
"I got an anonymous deposit and a set of coordinates."
"I was supposed to upload them to a secure server."
Alessandro didn't hesitate.
He dropped the camera into the sand and crushed it beneath his boot,
the sound of breaking glass and plastic a sharp punctuation in the air.
He then took the memory card out and snapped it in half.
"If I see you within five miles of this beach again,"
Alessandro whispered,
leaning in close,
"the authorities will be the least of your problems."
"Do you understand?"
The man nodded frantically,
tripping over his own feet as he turned and ran toward the parking lot.
Alessandro stood there,
the wind whipping his hair across his forehead.
The peace had lasted exactly one year.
He walked back to Livia,
forcing a smile onto his face as she showed him a particularly interesting shell.
"It’s beautiful, Livia,"
he said,
though his mind was already miles away.
He needed to call Claire.
He needed to know who was still looking for him.
The Rizzano board was gone,
Dominic was in prison,
and Bianca was supposed to be under supervision.
But there were always others.
Creditors of the soul,
men who felt that Alessandro’s departure was an insult to the life they lived.
He took Livia’s hand and led her back to the cottage,
his eyes scanning the horizon for the next shadow.
When they got inside,
he saw a white envelope sitting on the mat.
There was no stamp,
no return address.
Just his name written in a precise,
elegant hand he hadn't seen in a long time.
He opened it with a kitchen knife,
his breath hitching in his chest.
Inside was a single photograph.
It was an old picture of him and Dominic as children,
standing in front of the Rizzano estate.
Across the bottom,
someone had written:
The blood always remembers.
