KATE ROMANS
“It's Pietro Giacometti.” My brows arched as I got that piece of information.
“Pietro Giacometti? I think I have heard of him.” I mumbled, trying to figure out where I had heard his name, while gently tapping my foot against the hard floor underneath the table.
“Heard of him?” My informant chuckled as he grabbed the bale of money, his payment, on the table.
“Who doesn't know him? But then those who know him and are not in his league prefer to stay very far away from him.” He tucked the money into his bag and looked back up at me.
“And we are not in his league?” I asked and my informant suddenly cackled, almost in a mocking manner.
“Kate, there can be no comparison between a tiger and an ant. On a scale of one to ten, if yourself and Dylan are on one, Pietro won't be
