“As I could forget. It’s not still up to Chiara, but at least, I’m going to see her!”
Alessandro had had it with his words. He opened the door of the car, under the puzzled look of Luigi:
“Luigi, you’re coming with me. I take the second car. I want to check that everything is okay. Carlo and Claudia, take the main one!”
“Ok, detective. Have we to go and get Chiara?”
Alessandro stood still for a moment:
“I have no instruction. So I guess not!”
He sat in the car without say a word for the first miles.
“Ale?”
“Tell me, Luigi.”
“Are you all right? You look angry!”
He thought of Chiara, her hands on him, her lips; and Jamal, who he had seen behind her. Alessandro had given him the time to go around, kissing her. His heart was shot up. His hands had trembled slightly. He was stupid: it was just the combination of tension and adrenaline. She was a beautiful girl, but nothing more. Then she was gone and he had waited Jamal. He inhaled. The things were getting complicated because of her. He had to silence her questions. He had to comprehend what she was thinking. Why she was commit to his squad? Had it been eventual? Maybe she was interested to him? To Carlo?
“Ale?”
He whirled toward to Luigi. He watching at him puzzled:
“You said that we had to reach Venice but today’s lesson will be in Chioggia. You’re going the wrong way!”
Alessandro looked at the signs and he cursing:
“Fuck, you’re right! Ok, I go out from the highway. Sorry, my head hurts!”
Luigi nodded. He handed to Alessandro an analgesic:
“Take it.”
Alessandro grabbed it. He took the medicine with a sip of water, as he was leaving the highway and doing reverse.
“I said Venice to Carlo too!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, but he took the right direction, I think. He probably didn’t have even noticed!”
Chiara was walking back and forward. She had the briefcase in one hand and her phone in the other. She had chosen to wear a suit. She didn’t know why. Now, while feeling observed by all those who entered into the room, she was regretting, as she was regretting of what was happening between Alessandro and her, and between Carlo and her too.
She remembered her old boss:
“Remember, Pilati… if you mix up duty with pleasure, you’ll get bad choices and sorrow!”
Maybe, he was right. Chiara saw Carlo approaching to her, smiling. She stiffened.
“Hi!”
“Hello, guys. Welcome!” She felt his admiring gaze. She could smell his aftershave. His hand touched her wrist.
Then he came to her, to whispering:
“You may want me to update you about the cases that we have followed, later, during the break; they probably linked to threats. I studied them again after your questions!”
Chiara nodded. Was it true? Maybe Carlo just wanted to keep her quiet. Where was Alessandro? As squad leader, he should have been on the main car. She walked over to the other speakers and smiled, taking notes, hearing snippets of conversation:
“Torres told us about an anonymous call!”
“Excuse me?” They turned toward her.
“Chiara, come here. Someone called last night, speaking about a possible bomb threat for the day after tomorrow!”
“The day after tomorrow?” Chiara nodded and said:
“An alert two days before; it sounds weird!”
“Indeed!” She was listening but she went distracted by the entrance of Alessandro. She saw him entering briskly with Luigi at his side. They were whispering to each other then Alessandro looked up at her.
Shivers went down her spine. Chiara had warned Spisni that she had news, but she had no time to tell him. She was undecided. Would have to deal with him?
What relationship there was between him and Jamal? Was he corrupt? Was he a terrorist? Chiara looked at Alessandro: he was intent on watching the screen. He had his hand resting on one leg and one arm resting on the chair next to him. She watched him fall to Carlo and telling to him something. Then she saw him turn around Claudia. Carlo was holding his phone. She narrowed her eyes, while Alessandro getting up, and followed him with her gaze: he got close to them, and then he stopped in a corner and whispered something to Torres.
Alessandro nodded and turned back to the guys; he was calling for them to get up. Then he clenched his jaw and startled.
He reached them on the threshold:
“Ferrari!” she said. He spun around, fixing at her:
“Detective!”
“Where are you going?”
“We had a report about suspicious packages in our area.”
“I’m coming with you!” He stared at her, from head to toe, and back again.
“Excuse me, but your wear a suit, and not your uniform” He turned away without another word.
“I’m assigned to your squad!”
He didn’t even turn, while replying:
“You’re not in uniform. I am the patrol leader. You’re out!”
Chapter 16
She saw red. Alessandro, Carlo, Luigi and Claudia got into the patrol cars and she cursed her decision of wearing a suit. She clenched her fists and she came back in.
Nevertheless, although he was probably corrupt, despite the fact that Carlo had kissed her – even though he was ready to go over the simple kiss – her concern was Alessandro. She paid back her attention to the slides. If she had found her suspicions valid, she would have denounced him. She breathed. She would have done it. She had to calm down. She was still repeating it, three hours later, when she felt two hands covering her eyes and a warm voice whispering:
“Hello, honey”!
She whirled:
“Carlo!”
He smiled. They were a few inches apart. She could feel his breath against her lips. His hands slipped on her shoulders: a gesture that was kind and sensual at the same time. His fingers brushed against her neck’s skin. Chiara breathed, moving away from a step, taking a distance between them:
“How did it go?”
“It was a false alarm. A boy who wanted to be funny.”
“Okay.”
She felt a chill. She didn’t need to turn and see that he was behind her. She turned around slowly and she found him. He was standing against a column, his arms folded. He was busy, while staring at her and biting a sandwich from the buffet.
She kept thinking about the meeting between him and Jamal; she kept seeing him arguing with the suspect; she kept seeing him kissing her. She stared into his eyes. She lifted her chin and turned to going towards him
“Need to talk.”
He just tilted his face:
“For what happened? I don’t think there are problems. You’re liege to rules, I didn’t think that you couldn’t understand.
Was he ironic? He stared at her, indolent and self-confident. At the same time, on his face alternated anger and excitement. It was strange mixes that made her guts to tangle and made her shiver of anticipation and fear. She decided, without losing too much time to think again.
“No, for your meeting at the park with Jamal. Do you want to talk about it here or we’d better choose a quiet place?” She saw him turning pale. He opened the hand that held the sandwich that fell to the ground. He bent down to pick it, and then he stared at her:
“Come on!” He grabbled her by the elbow and pulled her to a deserted corridor.
After a few steps, she planted her feet:
“Slow down!” Alessandro whirled, observing her heels. Chiara was tall; with the heels, she was almost as tall as him. She stared at him in the eye. She was motionless. He lingered into her eyes; he lost in those green gems.
He opened a door: it was locked. He tried with the one in front: the door opened and he pushed her inside, without even looking where they were. He looked just that there was no one. Once inside in the room, he just stood and watched her.
She took a quick look at the room; she was supposed to be an old meeting room fallen into disuse. There were still a desk and a few chairs.
“Cm’ on, Chiara, speak!”
She stepped back, finally free from his hands. She clenched her fists, raising her chin:
“I saw you at the park. Don’t insult my intelligence!”
Hers was a risky move. She had sent the photos to her boss in Ascoli Piceno, but now she had decided to go over the edge with him; force him, push him to contradict or overreact.
“You’re confused!”
Oh god. What a bloody cheek had he? Her eyes widened:
“I photographed you, Alessandro, didn’t try… Holy gosh, don’t insult my intelligence with these lies!”
“Chiara, you don’t understand. You don’t know many things. You’re always so suspicious. Am I inspired bad things?
Chiara hissed, stepping forward against him:
“Don’t change the subject!”
He turned away suddenly. He lowered his head. He looked thoughtful, but she couldn’t understand if he was wondering what to invent or if he was deciding whether to tell her the truth or not. Chiara laid a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, fixing firmly into her eyes:
“Sorry, Chiara. I can’t.”
She felt her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She shook her head:
“No answer makes me think bad thing, you know?”
He lifted his chin:
“Just because you saw me talking to him? Maybe I met and tried to stop him.”
She arched an eyebrow:
“Did you?” She saw his chest rise and fall frantic. She saw him loose his shirt collar.
“So? Answer, Ale!”
“I can’t, Chiara!”
“Then I’ll ask Torres!”
He jumped, turning pale. He chewed her lip:
“No! Chiara, listen to me. I need 24 hours, or at most 36, and then I’ll tell you!”
Chiara looked at the room, the windows, and the sky of blue: everything but him. She ran her hand up her skirt. She was sweaty and nervous.
She teased him. Now, she would have followed and studied every move of him. She needed to know on which side he was. She had cast the bait. She hoped that the result was going to be positive.
He approached her, staring decided into her eyes:
“36 hours…” He reached out, touching her lips. He saw her nod briefly and didn’t resist:
“Is Carlo a good kisser?”
She winced. Of course… guy talk… Carlo told him! She swallowed, but then held his gaze without blinking:
“Yes. Not bad.”
Alessandro took a step toward her, pushing her against the desk:
“What you say about the… after dinner?”
Chiara found herself leaning against the desk. She stared into his eyes. They were cold and lightning as a storm:
“Do you really want to know?” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
“Ah!” There had been an after dinner. Alessandro felt the wrath attack him. Why did he feel so angry? They were nothing. They weren’t supposed to be anything else than colleagues. He didn’t have to feel anything for her.
Chiara smiled, shaking her head:
“There was no after dinner. I went to my room by myself!”
She sat on the edge of the desk. He advanced trapping her legs between his, looking into her eyes. He touched her skin, her breast, insinuating his fingers under her blouse, in the neckline.
His fingers were so hot.
She shuddered intensely, despite everything. She felt her hands trembling and her head becoming lighter. She had to stop him. Indeed, her hands rose and she wove her fingers to his hair.
Their eyes were chained. Alessandro fell like a hawk on her lips, almost violently. Chiara parted her lips, accepting the invasion of his tongue, and duelling with him as a fencer. She heard a short breathing: his or hers? She felt his hands slipping on her bare skin and warm.
“Was Carlo excited too? Did he touch you like this? Did he kiss you like this?”
With a hand, he came down on her breast. He grabbed a nipple, touching it, while his lips descended on her throat and chest. Chiara felt the cold air on her bare breasts. Then she felt hot, so hot, when his lips came down, sucking it, tasting it. She clewed with her fingers at the desk and she moaned. He slipped his hand under her skirt, moving between her legs, touching her thighs. She moved eager and his hands reached her slip.
“Mmm, you’re ready for me… do you feel it…?”
She knew as he did. They couldn’t deny it. She moved her hands putting his trousers off. He moved his legs and let them fall to the ground: the evidence of his desire was pressing against his pants. Chiara touched him… and he groaned. He was losing control. She lowered his pants and he rolled up her skirt.
He leaned toward her, slipping between her legs; he didn’t want to waste a second. Moving her skirt aside, he entered in her. She put her arm resting on the desk holding back. He groaned, while moving inside her back and forth. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed inside her. As the tension rose, she stared into his eyes; they tormented like hers.
“Chiara…” he lifted slightly her, drawing her against his body. He was still inside her; emotions flew higher, more and more intense. She flung herself on his lips, while she felt the tension exploded inside her. He let go with a sigh, collapsing on her. Alessandro stroked her breasts, her belly, touching her thin waist. She kissed his neck. She couldn’t think straight. His flavour, his scent… she put her hands in his hair. She wanted to forget everything for a while still wanted to be lulled into the idea that it was happening was right, it would have ended well, that he wasn’t wrong, but good. That she wasn’t condemning her own soul, her career, and her life…
Alessandro moved back, staring at her. Again, he had fallen again! What the hell was she doing to him to make him lose control that way? Damn, anyone could enter. They were on a desk! But even worse, she knew, she had seen him, she could decide to say what she had seen or could grant him the hours that he had asked her. He stared at her: she looked distraught, her hair tousled, her lips swollen: she was so beautiful.
Chiara was telling herself stupid. How could he steal her control away? Slowly, she was returning to the reality. Damn, did she completely lose her mind? Yes, she did. It was the only possible reason. By now, she knew for sure, although she didn’t want to believe it, that he was corrupt. Definitely, he was holding some secret. She slid off the desk, pulling down her skirt and she grabbed her shirt. She turned and looked for her jacket. He was handing it to her.
“Chiara?”
“Give me a reason and you’ll have your time, Ale! Only one.”
He stared into her eyes, decided:
“Trust me!”
She would have followed him. She’d have kept an eye on him. If she had a confirmation on his corruption, she would have arrested him in flagrante delicto. She was acting improperly. Maybe she was acting incorrectly, letting him believe she was going to give him time? She sighed. Maybe, but she had to know.
“36 hours is the time I grant to you. Then, I’ll talk to you boss… and mine!”
She watched him dressing slowly. She approached him. He was like a magnet. He inevitably attracted her. She handed him the jacket. Their fingers brushed. They just stared at each other, frozen. She leaned toward him, brushing his lips with her tongue. She whispered:
“Don’t make me regret it!”
He closed his eyes and kissed her. He caught her tongue, put his hands into her hair. He just wanted to touch her or give her a light kiss, but the passion exploded as their tongues met, as their breaths mingled.
He broke away abruptly:
“I’m leaving.”
He opened the door, as if he had the devil at his heels. He not turned back; he was turning quickly to the conference room. He joined to a small group of colleagues, who apparently fell from the bar. He mingled with the flow colleagues. His hart
was pounding. Things were falling. He had to change all the plans.
She was dangerous.
He had to stop her.
He had to hurry up.
Chapter 17
The morning after she was looking at her reflection in the mirror:
“Man, I’m awful!” Dark shadows surrounded her eyes; her face was pale. She sighed: it was her turn to speak during the course. What a perfect day! She wore her uniform; this time, if something was going to happen, she wasn’t up to be cut off. She went toward the stage and stopped just a few steps before reaching it.
“Chiara, I thought of you tonight!”
“Carlo, you’re hopeless!”
He smiled:
“How about a coffee? We both came early this morning!”
“Okay. Are you alone?”
“We are all here. Haven’t you met anyone?”
Chiara shook her head. She didn’t. She didn’t even know if she wanted to meet him. Carlo stroked her hand and grabbed her by the wrist:
“I’m free tonight. What about a pizza?”
Chiara looked at him and shrugged: “Why not”.
“Can we join?”
They both winced out: Alessandro, Luigi and Claudia were behind them. Carlo’s eyes narrowed. He looked upset:
“Guys, how…”
Chiara smiled: “Sure you can. And I have an oral text ready for you!”
“Guys, I’m out. My boyfriend’s parents wait me for dinner!” Claudia smiled.
“What? Are you leaving me at their mercy?” Chiara smiled back and met Alessandro’s gaze. His eyes slid on her body, caressing it languidly with a glance full of possess and tension.
Chiara swallowed and rose up drinking her coffee:
“I have to review my notes!”
She had to go away; she couldn’t stop thinking to the case he had taken. What was going on? Who gave it to him? And what was inside? She lost in her thoughts and didn’t realize someone was walking beside her.
“Chiara?”
She spun around. “Ferrari!” She looked at him. There were a lot of people in the hall, mostly colleagues smiling and greeting each other. He had stopped in front of her:
UNDER THE CLOAK Page 7
