“Hello, can I help you?” I don’t acknowledge that I know the man because I’m certain he won’t remember me—I am nothing to him—but I won’t soon forget the sight of the Giordano family boss. He lifts his chin, studying me with a quick flick of his eyes before glancing back to where Grace is cowering in the living room behind me. “I was looking for Zeno. Is he home?” “No, I’m afraid not. He was kind enough to let us stay for a couple of nights while we’re in the city.” Did the heat in here just kick on? Am I sweating? Oh, God. Please don’t sweat in front of this man. “I see. They told me downstairs that someone was occupying the apartment, and I thought perhaps Zeno had come back early.” Christiano’s eyes narrow. “I’m surprised to find you here, I must say. I’m not sure I’ve ever known Zeno t
