His fingers brush up my skin, rolling my shirt up. His lips were on mine. His mouth travels from mine all the way down to my collarbone.
"Luca." I moan breathlessly from his soft open-mouthed kisses
"𝑆𝑖, 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑜."
Fuck, his Italian accent wa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She left. She fucking left in the middle of this argument. Some part of me wanted to run after her, to grad her hand and tell her not to run away from this argument. I couldn't even process the fact that she was defending him, instead of siding with me she went on about how he didn't feel her up when I saw it with my own fucking eyes.
Enzo walks in my office with a huge smile, a fucking whole pizza and three sodas on his hands. But when he sees that it's just me, he frowns and looks around the whole room.
"Where's Alessia?" He asks
I glare at him and he rolls his eyes setting down the food. "What did you do?" He asks
"Why the fuck do you think I did something?" I ask
"Because I know you." He shrugs opening the box and eating a pizza slice.
I refuse to answer to his stupid comment and sit back opening the file my second in command brought me up. It was everything on Slavati, and his family. Angelo's file was mostly empty, they had kept him a secret so it was rare to even know about him, on the other hand Claudia and Marco Slavati had a lot of information. Claudia's forged death certificate was in my hands, but I was curious on wether they forged it or if someone had actually died and they just tricked the department of health making them believe it was Claudia.
"Look through these papers and tell me if it mentions anything weird." I say tossing Angelo's file to Enzo.
I then look at the autopsy report of Claudia's death and see that cause of death was a car accident at Interstate 78. I unlock the laptop on my desk and open New Yorks news anchor website choosing news from the date that she died. It didn't take long to find one that matched her description. Truck flipped over on I-78 at about midnight, by the time an ambulance arrived the driver had been dead. A picture of the vehicle was shown but not of the body, the police labeled it accident but no other car was shown at all.
"Hey Luca, get over here." Enzo calls me out.
I stand up and walk over to him to see that he has papers scrambled in the small coffee table that this office had. But in front of him was a picture of a document. A copy of Angelo's birth certificate to be exact.
"This is his birth certificate. Claudia's signature is on it but when you look at the father, it's not Marco Slavati's signature."
I take the paper from him and look down at the signed name that reads Vincent Accardi. The last name is definitely Italian but this name is completely unknown to me. I take my work phone out of my pocket and dial the tech/surveillance room.
"Yes boss?" They answer
"Have identity and yourself run the name of Vincent Accardi and then come to my office and tell me what you get."
"Yes sir." They answer and I hang up.
I hand the papers back to Enzo and he puts them at the edge of the table.
