Leading the women a few blocks farther, Matteo eventually turned to a nondescript building with boarded up shutters and a half rotting front door. As he pushed the creaking panel of wood open, the heavy scent of damp and mold escaped. Inside, only the glow of candles on rickety tables helped them find their way around. An elevated counter and several tapped barrels behind it confirmed the place as a tavern. After ordering a round of wine, Matteo directed them to a table in the corner.

"What were you thinking in trying to climb into that convent?" He whispered the question to Giovanna who'd taken the spot across from him.

She leaned forward to deliver the answer just as discreetly. "I wasn't trying to climb in. I was attempting to get someone out."

"That's even more absurd!" he exclaimed, inadvertently raising his voice. Looking around, he checked to see if anyone around had given heed. Satisfied that the handful of the other patrons enjoying their mid-morning ales were too engrossed in their cups to notice, he continued. "Well, tell me everything then."

Giovanna took a deep breath of the foul air, immediately regretting the move. "There isn't much to tell," she said between coughs. "Ottavia Michiel has been unjustly locked inside that convent, and we intend to get her out."

Matteo slowly broke into a giggle, which quickly turned into a hearty chuckle. When his two companions remained indifferent, he stopped. "Oh, you're serious. Forgive me." He cleared his throat. "Michiel. She's the former ambassador's daughter, is she not? Why do you care about her fate?"

"She's my friend," Giovanna said, intently watching Matteo's reaction. When his brows slipped upward in surprise at the revelation that a commoner like her could be in the confidence of a noble-born woman, she swallowed her rebuttal. For now, she needed Matteo to be on her side. A schooling on classism could come later.

Unaware of her internal deliberations, Matteo took a sip of his wine. "I believe she just became engaged, did she not?" he asked as a bead of the red liquid lingered on his top lip. "So her father has decided to play it safe and have the sisters guard her virtue until her wedding day."

Giovanna shook her head, mesmerized in anticipation until his tongue licked off the errant droplet. "Uhm, not her father, but rather her husband-to-be: Niccolo Grimani."

The previous hint of amusement dropped from Matteo's handsome face. Puckering his wet lips in distaste, he drank more of the wine. "I'm afraid in that case, I cannot help you."

"Why ever not?" Giovanna asked, keeping her gaze on his eyes, expecting them to be less distracting. She was proven wrong as soon as his thick lashes fluttered with a blink.

"The Grimanis are not to be trifled with, and I cannot risk anyone getting hurt in this endeavor," he said, thankfully unawares of her silly scrutiny.

"Anyone? Or perhaps you mean yourself?" Giovanna lobbied back the accusation, no longer under his spell and unable to hold back her thoughts. "Because why would you really care about what happens to either of us?"

Matteo slowly fingered the rim of his cup, neglecting to make eye contact with her. "I'm very disappointed, Giovanna. Tis true that we've only known each other for a few days, but I would have hoped you still thought more highly of me."

At that, he looked up. To Giovanna's astonishment, his eyes reflected the same sadness evident in his voice. The revelation was so surprising, she now couldn't muster any response.

"But if you must know," Matteo continued, taking advantage of her silence. "Crossing the Grimani family brings equal peril to everyone. You were there, were you not? Not even a well-connected patrician like Tomaso Delfini is safe."

Blood rushed to Giovanna's face. "So you've confirmed that the doge was involved in his attack?" she asked, ashamed that she'd practically forgotten all about the morning's events as soon as she learned that Ottavia was in trouble.

Matteo nodded with a sigh. "Delfini wasn't able to say much and I'm not sure whether he'll live long enough to ever say more, but the little that he could utter between pained gasps have reaffirmed your suspicions. Whether it was the doge himself ordering the ambush or if it came on his son's directives remains to be seen. But for our purposes now, it's one and the same. So as I said, if Nicco had his bride locked away, not even her father could go against his wishes and come away unscathed."

Giovanna sank in her chair, feeling more dejected than ever. Even if there was a way to reverse the situation, her tired brain couldn't think of it.

"You look familiar," Matteo said, turning to Dilara who'd been silent the entire time. "Your brother regularly trades between Venice and the Ottomans, does he not?"

"He does," she replied with a curt nod.

He ran his fingers through his dark hair and sighed. "So how did you get entangled in this?"

Dilara glanced at Giovanna, momentarily dropping her stoic facade as though she was briefly contemplating being candid. Giovanna's subtle shake of her head told her it would be prudent otherwise.

"I . . . I was in the Rialto when Nicco dragged Ottavia away," she said nothing, but the truth while still omitting anything incriminating.

"Ah," Matteo exhaled the acknowledgement. "And then it was you who alerted Giovanna. It's a good thing you didn't get mixed up with Grimani. Who knows what would befall you then."

"Perhaps, but I'm afraid it is my brother who is bearing Nicco's wrath," Dilara said.

Matteo leaned forward. "How so?"

"As punishment, Hakan must help Nicco move cargo that has entered Venice without being written into the Republic's ledgers. It is work that no reputable merchant would do unless being forced by someone like him," Dilara said.

Although the admission of blackmail and illicit commerce should have been the first thing to hold Matteo's attention, there was another part of the girl's statement that captured his interest. "Punishment?" he asked, repeating the exact word she'd used. "For what? What did your brother do that deserves punishment?"

Giovanna drew in a sharp breath as Dilara tucked a lock of her fiery hair behind her ear with a shaky hand.

"I misspoke," the girl lied. "I rather should have said deterrent. Nicco did not want us to speak out against his treatment of Ottavia, so he is forcing Hakan to commit illegal acts on his behalf to make him equally complicit in them."

Matteo sat back. "I see. And do you have any evidence of what Nicco is doing?"

"Only what I have seen with my own eyes," she said.

"That will not be enough," Matteo said with a sigh. "Neither your word nor Hakan's will hold up against that of Nicco Grimani. If I take this conjecture to any official including my own father, they'll laugh me out of the council chamber or—worse yet—find a way to put the blame on your brother."

"What of your word?" Dilara asked. "What if you could see the smuggling in action for yourself? Will the council believe you over the doge's son?"

Matteo scowled and scratched his chin. "It's highly unlikely," he said. "But . . .."

"But what?" Giovanna asked, both literally and figuratively at the edge of her seat.

He smiled, either amused by her renewed interest in the conversation or—what she had rather hoped—by an idea. "But if there is a way for me to find evidence of my own, then that may get us somewhere."

"Can you spare time tonight?" Dilara asked. "There is a warehouse in the Arsenale that is scheduled to be emptied on Nicco's orders."

"What is in the warehouse? Where is it being moved?" Matteo asked with escalating interest.

"That I do not know," Dilara said. "Come for yourself and see."

"I want to come, too," Giovanna said even before Matteo agreed.

He scoffed. "What? No."

"Why not?" she asked with a shrug.

"There is no reason for you to be there."

"Of course there is!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. "This is the man promised to wed my friend, and if there is anything I can do to save her from that, I will. Even if it means exposing all of his dirty deeds."

Matteo sighed. "It is agreed. We will meet at the Arsenale gate at sundown."

Giovanna stood and nodded. "Until then."