Double Agent

○ twenty ○

Ezra and I stand side by side, hands crossed, staring at the man shackled at an interrogation table. His eyes flit between the both of us, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Y'all gonna talk or what?" He's clearly been in America for too long, his accent is almost Southern.

We keep staring. I side eye Ezra, praying he has a plan. What would we even ask him? Would we reveal who we are? What if he doesn't know anything and just owed my father a lot of money? Do we kill him? Throw him in jail? Let him off?

Ezra steps forward, resting his hands on the table and leaning forward to face Giordano.

"I'm surprised you don't know who she is..."

"Me too."

I press my lips together to keep from smiling. Ezra, however, is having none of it.

"The name Luca Rinaldi ring any bells for you?"

Giordano looks taken aback, his eyes flitting to me.

"You can't be- She's not-"

I cock my head at him, as if trying to squeeze the words of him.

"You're the little speranza?"

"Depends on who's asking."

"That horrible woman isn't here, is she?"

"Who?"

He shudders, "Your mother."

I run my hand over my jaw, covering my smile. Finally, someone who admits they hate her. I'm going to be so mad if he's the bad guy.

"No," I pipe up, "She's not here. In fact, I've left. I work at my own independent organisation. This is Bob, my right hand man. He has been a great help in this investigation."

Bob points his middle finger at me below the table.

"Merde, you managed to leave? I always hoped you would. Your father had great hopes for you beyond the Cosa Nostra."

I smile slightly, lowering my eyes as the image of a big smiling man invades my head.

"How exactly did you know my father?"

"We were close friends, that's all. Worked together for many years. I was his advisor. I left to pursue other jobs and he let me out of courtesy."

I pause slightly, waiting for him to continue in case he decides to spill any more information.

"I really am sorry for not recognising you. We used to have tea when you were younger, and you'd run around the dining room while we discussed records and business. You really were adorable."

"I remember that. I always thought your name was Spai. Uncle Spai, didn't I use to call you that?"

"That, my dear, was a terrible and yet very well thought out joke created by your father to spite me."

Ezra, who had resumed his position standing by me, puts his hand on my back to remind me.

"I'm here because I'm trying to find out who murdered my father. I know that this is a dangerous business, and that oftentimes things like this are dismissed as part of the show, but my father was a very respected man and kept his end of the deals. Are you sure you cannot think of anything else that you happened to help him with?"

Giordano cocks his head slightly at me, analysing my face, deep in thought.

Finally, he speaks, "No."

"Are you sure?" Although I do know this man, he did just try to hit on me and I do have evidence relating him to his shady shit. I need to tread carefully.