My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 730

Chapter 730

I hadn’t taken a single sip.

My attention never left the water.

The marina looked ordinary.

Fishing boats rocked gently against their docks. A father untangled a fishing line while his son chased gulls across the pier. A mechanic cursed as he disappeared beneath the engine hatch of an old trawler.

Exactly the kind of place people stopped paying attention.

Across the channel, beyond the last row of docks, stretched open water.

Somewhere out there was the island. You couldn’t see it from here. Distance and morning haze swallowed everything beyond the horizon.

But I knew exactly where it was.

Giovanni Toricelli believed winning before the Council meant he’d won the war. He thought he could steal the woman I love, humiliate my family, and walk away untouched. He’d mistaken restraint for

surrender.

That mistake would cost him painfully.

Everything that went into that island, eventually came back out. People, supplies, information. All I

needed was one mistake.

I checked my watch, three hours. My phone vibrated once inside my pocket.

Dante: Anything?

I typed without looking away from the water.

Me: Nothing yet.

The reply came almost immediately.

Dante: Don’t get impatient.

Me: How is Vincenzo?

Dante: The same. He is barely speaking to anyone anymore. Claire’s the only person he’ll talk to. I called Alessia… maybe she’ll be able to get through to him.

A low diesel engine echoed across the bay. My head lifted. A dark cabin cruiser appeared from the morning fog. It was not fast enough to draw attention but not slow enough to look like it belonged to tourists. The boat slipped quietly into one of the private docks near the end of the marina.

Two men climbed off first. They were security. You could always tell. They looked around before anyone

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else moved.

A third man followed.

Late forties, gray suit, leather briefcase tucked beneath one arm, clean shoes, no visible weapon. He looked like an accountant or a lawyer. Someone whose job involved paperwork instead of bullets.

One of the guards spoke to him quietly.

The man nodded, then the guards climbed back aboard. Within seconds the boat pushed away from the dock. I watched it disappear back into the bay. The suited man adjusted his tie before walking toward the parking lot.

I counted silently.

One…

Two…

Three…

All the way to thirty.

Then I stood.

I blended into the small crowd, keeping half a block between us. He never looked back. He crossed the marina, passed seafood warehouses, walked beneath rusting cranes that hadn’t moved in years.

The farther he went, the fewer people remained, his pace changed, barely noticeable but I noticed.

He’d realized someone was behind him.

He glanced into the reflection of a parked delivery truck. Our eyes met for the briefest second. He turned the corner faster now. I followed. His walk became a jog, then a run.

Wrong decision.

I broke into a sprint and the distance disappeared almost instantly.

He reached a narrow service alley and spun around, breathing hard, “You-”

His hand shot toward the inside of his jacket.

Phone, maybe a gun but it didn’t matter. I already had mine, held backward. I closed the last few feet between us and swung. The steel butt of my pistol slammed into the side of his head. A dull crack echoed off the brick walls. His eyes rolled back, his body folded and I caught him before he hit the

concrete.

His briefcase slipped from his hand and landed beside us with a thud. I crouched beside him, listening and looked toward the mouth of the alley.

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