Pinks and oranges filled the sky as we neared the port of Marsala. The sun had already risen over the horizon. Smooth waters welcomed us into the marina where we docked at Artemisia's old slip. It was a beautiful, quiet morning to finally be back on the island.

No one on Desirae's team had been able to give her a clear answer on how the red notice had disappeared. But I was free. Or mostly. My only duty was to continue being an asset for the Agency. Despite Desirae's pleading, they firmly advised her I should remain on foreign soil and not go back to the States with her. Alternate counseling would be provided. Whatever the hell that meant.

She wasn't too happy with that decision.

Before leaving the yacht, I wrote out a thank you note to Lisette which was more of a cryptic apology of trying to tell her, but not-tell her what had happened. The fact that she hadn't reported her yacht as stolen made me hopeful she would understand. I promised I would find her again. And signed off as Chiara.

I packed a small bag, but folded up my sweatshirt that she loved to wear and left it on the bed with the note. I was tempted to also leave Lucia's stilettos I had stolen, but I couldn't part with them.

As I climbed the steps up into the wheelhouse, I noticed Artemisia hanging back at the captain's chair.

She set Lisette's sunglasses down on the navigation panel. "It is a nice boat," she confessed.

With a laugh, I kissed her cheek. "Come on."

I gathered up the rest of our stuff from the yacht, including Lisette's dress I had ruined the day before along with Soraya's harness that likely still had Charlene's blood on it. As we passed the first restaurant along the harbor, I ditched both in a dumpster.

"What happened to the thumb?" Artemisia asked.

"A goat ate it."

"A goat?" She stopped for a second. "Smart, amuri."

"It wasn't intentional," I mumbled.

"Keep your eyes peeled," Desirae warned as we left the marina. "Everyone else knows we're back and has now had twenty hours to catch up. We don't want to draw any extra attention to ourselves."

Centuries-old buildings adorned with baroque architecture leered overhead. But the closer we got to the city gate, I felt the rush of a homeward pull. I could sense the same for Artemisia. She was happy to be home. Savory smells of street food wafted through the corridors. A few musicians on the corner began to play traditional Sicilian songs. Artemisia walked light on her feet with their rhythm in her gait. Across the square, people sat at tables beneath a canopy, enjoying a granita with their brioscia and morning coffee.

"What's the plan to get to Nanna's?" I asked Desirae as we passed beneath the city's gate. Artemisia strolled ahead of us. "Should we taxi?"

"Probably not a good idea. Her father's men are everywhere here." She looked over at Artemisia who had wandered up to a boutique's window. "Artie, you gave all the cash to the guard in the shipyard. You're broke."

"A woman who is young and beautiful is never poor," I replied. I couldn't remember the exact Sicilian translation, but it was one of Nanna's proverbs that always stuck with me.

Artemisia turned back to me with a surprised smile. "Chi sì bona!" she laughed. "It is vintage Dolce and Gabbana. I have to at least try it on, Desi."

Desirae looked over at me as if I could convince Artemisia otherwise. But I knew better. "We'll wait out here."

"She needs to go on a budget," Desirae murmured once Artemisia disappeared into the shop.

"I don't think she knows the meaning of that word. In any language." I leaned back against the building's cold stone facade. What were we going to do for money? Most of what I had was still tied up in Georgiy's gallery. Or Lucia's gallery now. If she was still alive. "Your girlfriend at the Agency didn't happen to mention any uhh, news from Malta, did she?"

"No. But no news is good news, Kirby."

I wasn't so sure I agreed. "Did you tell her what happened?"

"I told her what she needed to know." Desirae was being careful with her words again. "But a lot of it didn't exactly feel like a conversation to have over the phone. Not with her, at least."

Jealousy buzzed in my chest. "So when does she want you back in D.C.? For a face-to-face?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I groaned softly. "Why is that always their answer?" My eyes scanned the growing morning crowd before looking over at Desirae. She kept her eyes busy on everyone except me. "Don't you want to stay with us?"

"Of course I do. You know I do. But I need to see what's going on back home. With Pino, for one. I need to make sure you both are safe here while he's locked up. It's not like the family business just collapsed without him. In fact, what I'm hearing is quite the opposite." Desirae quickly glanced at the shop's door. "Has she said anything about her mother?"

"Sabina? No, why?"

"She's supposedly in charge now."

If there was anyone on this planet who hated me worse than her father did, it was her mother. I might have somewhat won over Pino, but Sabina was a whole other beast.

"She never once reached out to Artie while we had her detained," Desirae whispered, leaning in close. "Artemisia comes back from the dead, gets arrested, and her mother still treats her as if she's dead? I don't get it, Kirby. If I had the ability to—" She shook her head and leaned back against the wall. "I could never imagine treating my only daughter like that."

I listened carefully to what Desirae was telling me. Not that I needed more proof of what a shitty mother Sabina was to Artemisia, but it was rare Desirae opened up personally like that.

"Part of me thinks she was the one who orchestrated the drive-by at the gallery," she stated.

I turned to face her, but she kept her eyes forward. "To target Artie?"

"Do you think she's capable of something like that?"

"Capable? Sabina?" I scoffed. "I don't know, Des, she's certainly cold, especially towards Artie. But you said they were shooting at you? Because of everything you've been digging up?"

She nodded. "Both can be true."

"But they stopped shooting when they saw me."

"Another possible truth. But I don't want to say anything to Artie until I have more information."

I followed Desirae's eyes out to the crowd in the square. No wonder she was so paranoid. Behind us, the boutique's wooden door rattled open. Artemisia was thanking the owner and saying goodbye.

"Anyways," Desirae continued, "I have a feeling I'll be back over here sooner rather than later. There's something weird going on with the Italian ambassador in Rome."

For a moment, I had forgotten she was leaving us. "So let him be weird," I pouted. "Rome is not Marsala."

Desirae's dark eyes locked onto mine this time. "We will always find a way back to each other. All of us." The shop's door shut, followed by heels clicking. "And the Italian ambassador is a woman."

"A very beautiful one," Artemisia added. She now wore a cropped top and a long skirt with the famous Sicilian carretto printed on it in vibrant reds, yellows, and blues with heeled sandals to match. "She was at a party in Milan a few years ago."

"You know her personally?" Desirae asked.

"Amuri, there was maybe nine of us on a bed. I did not take the time to get to know her between my legs and others. Only after the party, Atia tells me who she is."

"But she does have ties to Lucia?"

Artemisia shrugged. "She did."

Did. I wasn't sure if her use of past tense was deliberate, hopeful, or just her English slipping. As she curled her hair behind her ear, I noticed Lucia's diamond studded earrings were now missing. A fair price to pay for the outfit. "Do you feel better now?"

"Much." The sound of a mandolin made her turn her head towards the square. "A little early for the pizzica. Police must be near."

"How do you know?" Desirae asked.

"He begins to play faster when they get close to warn others."

The beat of a tambourine quickened. A drum thudded in sync. Across the square, two uniformed officers appeared around the side of the cathedral. Desirae looked at me.

"What?"

She pushed away from the building and glanced down the side street. "What do you know about stealing cars?"

"Absolutely nothing," I answered. "Why?"

As she looked back at the officers, she grabbed Artemisia's arm. "Is that—"

"Yes." Artemisia lifted her ankle and began slipping off her shoes. "There is an Ape parked on the corner there, keys on the seat."

I was confused by their sudden urgency. "The notice is gone. You said I was in the clear?"

"One of my father's friends." Artemisia handed me her heels. "Police or not, they are not permitted near Nanna's. Go behind the cathedral, around the square and I will hop on the back with you."

"And what? You're just gonna go dance with him while we steal the Ape?"

"Yes."

"Artie, no, we don't split up." I looked at Desirae. "Des?"

The older officer began heading our way.

Artemisia didn't wait for Desirae's answer. She took off into the square towards the officer, stopping him in front of the musicians. As she touched his chest, he grabbed her hand with an annoyed smile. He tried to look past her, but she began to dance the pizzica.

"He's not after her," Desirae murmured as she pulled me towards the side-street. "Or at least not stupid enough to do anything here. Let's go."

We turned down the corner, finding the old three-wheeled truck parked. I tossed Artemisia's heels into the back of the flatbed. "Are you gonna be able to drive this?"

Desirae looked up and down the buildings, making sure no one else was paying attention to us. The door opened with a rusty groan. "Top speed of forty-five kilometers per hour? It's not exactly a Ferrari, but I think I can handle it."

The engine sputtered as Desirae turned the key in the ignition. I lifted my foot to the back tire and swung my leg up over the wooden rail to climb into the back. There wasn't exactly a place to hide in the truck's bed, I just lowered myself and slid back against the cab. As we rolled forward down the street that was parallel to the square, I peeked through a crack to watch Artemisia and the officer.

By his annoyed smile, I could tell he knew her. He ran his hand through his dark silver streaked hair and shook his head, trying to step past her again. But even as she twirled around without touching him, he moved with her. She had that magnetic effect on people. Her feet tapped and kicked as she spun, whipping her hair around.

Another woman came over to join and Artemisia immediately circled her, flicking her skirt. Their bodies came within inches of each other, but never touched. I had forgotten how seductive the dance truly was. The officer jerked his head back in the direction where Desirae and I had been standing outside of the boutique, but we were already on the other side of the square. He turned again, back to where more women had begun to dance in front of the musicians, but Artemisia was gone.

She cut diagonally through the square, walking just fast enough to get away, but to not draw attention. The other officer continued towards the street where we had taken the Ape, but Pino's guy remained in the center where Artemisia had left him.

Desirae slowed down at the corner of the cathedral for her to hop on the back. I sat up and grabbed her arm, steadying her on the turn. Her leg swung up and over the side, then as she lifted the other, Desirae hit the brakes. Artemisia lurched forward, falling on top of me as I fell back.

My fingertips sunk into her waist as she smiled on top of me. Her wild curls fell off to the side of her shoulder, draping around us. In the rear window, Desirae turned to look back at us. The engine groaned as she stepped on the gas.

I reached up to tuck her hair around her ear. "I forgot how much I love watching you dance."

Artemisia laid her head down on my shoulder. "Unfortunately, Vito does not make the best dance partner."

"Vito?" I searched for the name in my mind, but came up empty. Most of the time, Artemisia referred to her father's men by their last names. "Have you uhh, danced with him before?"

She didn't respond right away. I slid up to my elbows to look at her better.

"Just his daughter," she finally confessed.

I rolled my eyes and laid back down flat with her. "Of course."