Thirteen
Leblanc had not seen Cinzia Calvino for some time, though he followed her career as he did with all three families, using tracking software. He needed it. Family members arrived and disappeared with no obvious rhyme or reason. Cinzia was a particularly beautiful woman, lush and tempting to those so inclined.
He had never been tempted to stray, though some of the firm’s female clients had tried to tempt him at various times over the years. Not, he knew, because of his personal appearance. Always they were drawn to what he knew, what he could have told them. Knowing was a strange and dangerous power. He’d always believed his wife didn’t know, but he might be wrong about that, he supposed. He’d been drawn to her because of her stillness, because she wasn’t like any of them. Here, a
