Hidden Tracks | ✓

42 | traitors never win

"Buongiorno."

We looked up to find a short, balding man, wearing a navy blue suit. He was slightly on the thinner side, with his few strands of hair well oiled and combed back. He wore a gold Cartier on his left wrist and his leather shoes were polished to perfection. His eyes were narrow and dark, as he assessed us with a thin smile.

We stood up. Soler held out his hand. "Buongiorno, Signor Ianucci. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Patricio Ianucci's smiled broadened as he shook Soler's hand. "Miguel told me a lot about you. Said you were new in this business, but you were already making good deals with him."

Soler smiled. "Well, why don't you see for yourself what kind of deals I make, Signor?"

Ianucci laughed a little, and then his eyes fell on me. He quickly bowed down and pressed his lips to my hand. "Benvenuto Signorina. I've heard a lot about you as well."

I could see Soler scowling from the corner of my eye, and I smirked internally. Jealous, are we?

I smiled. "What have you heard, Signor? Good things, I hope?"

He chuckled. "All good, don't worry, bella."

Ew.

He motioned towards a door. "Why don't you both come into my office? We can discuss our work there, in privacy."

We followed him into his office. It was a huge room with a grand mahogany desk taking centre stage. The walls were lined with old wooden shelves, filled with leather bound books, and a few more oil paintings frowned down at us from all sides.

We took our seats opposite Ianucci, when his butler knocked and entered, carrying two glasses of drinks on a tray.

"Red wine, brought from the vineyards of Tuscany," Ianucci said, regarding us with his narrow eyes. I smiled and held a glass to my lips. Indeed, the wine was good.

Ianucci leaned forward. "So, tell me, what business do you plan on doing with me? What should I be expecting of you?"

Soler leaned forward too, his voice dropping low. "Ms Sofia and I have some pretty valuable supplies in our hands. Ecstasy, meth, heroin, temazepam, cocaine--we've got it all. I'm sure Mr Rubio has already told you about the ecstasy we supplied to him."

Ianucci nodded. "Yes, I'm aware. He has assured me of your credibility."

I smiled and took it from there. "Good. We have just received a fresh batch of heroin and temazepam from Slovenia, and we can assure you, it's absolutely authentic. We would like to begin our business with you, but for the right price."

Ianucci's lips stretched up slightly at the corners. "Very well. Name your price."

Just as I was about to open my mouth again, there was a knock on the door. Ianucci looked a bit irritated at being interrupted, but he hollered "Come in!" nonetheless.

The door opened, and a tall man entered. His head was shaved, and he was wearing a shirt and slacks. Intricate tattoos lined his ebony skin.

It took a moment for me to place him in my memory, but when I did, my heart practically stopped.

It was Jean Gauthier.

The man in Amélie Beaumont's PR team, the one who had mysteriously quit his job a few months before Amélie went into witness protection.

The man who had also "introduced" Isabella Hill to Amélie, in Isabella's words.

I noticed Soler tense in his seat. He'd recognised him too. Now there was no doubt that Amélie and Mason were connected with Ianucci.