Lia studied the mild rope burn decorating her wrist as she held the pastry bag on her lap. When the taxicab pulled up to a stop in front of the hotel Silvio had recommended they book themselves into for the time being, she stopped daydreaming about the cause of the burn, paid the driver, and climbed out. 

Upstairs, she found Silvio still unconscious, half buried in the down comforter, and wearing nothing else but a matching rope burn. 

"Silvio Violante, it is eleven in the morning! Why are you still sleeping?" She called out to him as she circled the bed and tossed the pastry bag near his head. "You'd be quite proud of all I've accomplished so far today! I met with Donna Beko at the address you gave me, and you were right, there was ONE spot left in the crew, and she agreed to give me a chance! Lovely lady, I'm sure I will enjoy working for her. I met some of the crew, too... Drem, Denny, Addie...oh, and the Right Hand Man, Harry, he greeted me personally! Everyone is so helpful, and friendly... you really got yourself in with a good lot, yes?" She smiled down at him. His hair was so perfectly messed that she hoped he left it that way for the day. When he sat up and smoothed it back into place with one hand, she sighed before her face brightened again.

"The best part... those doughnuts? I got them free! From the polizia!!" She laughed, clapping her hands together. "I was leaving the HQ, you see, and was going to hail a taxi, but it was taking so long, and I was so bored. I saw a police car approaching and the next thing I knew, I was turning on the waterworks and flailing my arms around," she said, laughter edging her words. "I don't even know why I did it. I just did. I told the pair of uniforms in the car that I'd been mugged in an alley by a masked assailant, making sure to wave my wrists around as I spoke," she said, her eyes darting quickly from Silvio's face, to the rope still tied to one of the bedposts. "They looked mortified, naturalmente, and after I filled out a bogus police report, both of them gave me the contents of their wallets out of sympathy...along with their breakfasts!" She laughed loudly then, falling back on the bed, and across Silvio's legs. 

"It's not a lot of money, of course, but what fun! Can we do something like that today? Something bigger, maybe?" She asked excitedly as she looked up at him, eyes full of hope and naivete'. 

"I donated most of my father's money to Don Beko, you know, to make a good impression. I'll be needing to make a lot more, soon. Any ideas, Signor?"

"Silvio Violante, it is eleven in the morning! Why are you still sleeping?"

His voice was muffled as he murmured, "Did you not answer your own question, fiore? It is the morning. I am... what is the word... nocturnal." Still, he yawned and dragged himself to an upright position in the bed- although he was soon tilting forward with his chin near his chest as he listened to Lia. Still, he was smiling just from hearing her voice. Was he still dreaming? He rubbed his wrist, looking down at the rough, pink skin that the rope had left from the previous evening; the rope that still tied him to the post. He yawned, standing up and not bothering to take the sheet with him as he freed himself from the rope. Silvio had many flaws, but he was relatively shameless. To him, it was simply a natural state of being and he saw his comfort with himself as a virtue. To others, perhaps they'd not see it the same way. He ran his hand through his hair with a vulpine grin. 

Today? Today was a good day.

"Of course the crew loves you. And the police. Who would not?"

He stretched, then crawled back into the bed, where he sat back against the pillow with his hands behind his head, looking at Lia.

"A con? Several. In fact, I have the perfect idea in mind for you. But... there are some things I need to discuss with you first."

Silvio sighed.

"I do not know if I told you in our brief time together, the rules I made when my mother died and my father turned away from me. Carpe diem. Pursue beauty. And to never lie. Well, not to anyone I care about, at least. I've made two more rules since then: that you were the ruler of my heart, I said for the first time as I flew from Venice. And then, that I do not kiss and tell."

A rare frown cracked his face.

"Lia, I did not ever expect to see you again; I did not dare to dream it. Since arriving here, I have pursued many women. I know you told me that you had been with other men- the ones you father had had killed. And you know I am not one of the... ecclesiastici dalla mentalità ristretta who sees sex as a sin. But I did want you to know that when I thought I lost you, I tried to find you in as many other women as I could."

He sighed.

"The time I spent with you in Venezia were the greatest days of my life. My wish is that we pick up where we left off- that we take on the world together. But now, we are not stealing a moment before fate tears us apart- we have weeks, months, perhaps even years to live. If you want me, and only me, I will be yours. Gladly. Completely- just as I would want only you. I need no other, now that this miracle has happened and you are returned to me. But is that what you want? I suppose I ask you- what are Silvio and Lia now? What do you wish us to be?"

"For my own part, I seek only you. But if you feel more comfortable taking a longer road... knowing that there are many more men on the streets walking by than the ones who would break into your bedroom... well, I will be patient if you would like to take the long road to Silvio, if it means you will be more sure of yourself when you are there."

Silvio smirked.

"Still, do not take that as reticence on my part. I am also ready to marry you today, if you'd like."

He winked, yawning and rotating his wrist, still a little off from last night's festivities.

All nonsense and merriment melted away like the ice in last night's champagne bucket. Lia listened to the words Silvio spoke and saw the truth in them as they flowed forth. She owed him truth in return. 

"Silvio. Honestly," she began. This would be more difficult than she'd thought. She'd never really thought she'd be here in front of him to begin with, saying what she was about to say. Her father's pride ran strong in her, and it was hard to push it aside.

"Silvio. Those were the greatest days, were they not?" She began, smiling as she did. "And here we are again, against every odd, gifted with who knows how many more. I came to America, looking only for you, the man who dared breaking into my bedroom, risking his life to do so. I did not know what I would find, if I found you at all. Or who I might find you with," she said, drawing in a long breath and straightening her spine. 

"In the confessional. i knew I loved you then, and i've loved you ever since. If I found you again, I told myself that it would serve as a sign. I was going to fight for you if I had to. Something in my heart tells me I could win that battle," she said, her eyes returning to his. Her fingers itched to reach over and muss his dark hair.

"So, if you are asking me if I want us to be together, then the answer is yes, of course I do. Who else am I going to slap these onto?" She said as she tossed a pair of handcuffs into his lap with all the quiet seriousness she could muster. Failing that, she burst into laughter at the look on his face.

"P- P- Police issue, I wonder if he realizes they're missing yet," she howled with laughter, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes now. "Wait...Silvio, no!" She immediately stopped laughing as a cuff slapped closed around one of her wrists. "I didn't steal the key, and I haven't learned to lockpick yet!!" He seemed undisturbed by this, so Lia resisted not at all to the weight of him suddenly on top of her.

"Beh, allora. Fai del tuo peggio, Amante," she intoned right before his lips crashed into hers.

"Or who I might find you with..."

You are lucky you arrived during the afternoon, fiore, rather than the evening.

Silvio grinned as she held up the stolen handcuffs and he slapped one on her wrist. Climbing on top of her, he snapped the other handcuff on his wrist with a wink.

"Beh, allora. Fai del tuo peggio, Amante."

"Bene allora. È amore, dopo tutto."

Silvio stopped moving for just a moment to look at her- to make sure she was real. After his eyes were satisfied, he did not stop moving again for a long, long time.

_______

Silvio snored lightly, wrapped up in a bedsheet. The handcuff, which he'd quickly picked in flagrante delicto, was still around his wrist.

"Silvio Violante! It is two o'clock in the afternoon! Why are you still sleeping?"

He rolled lazily to one side, his warm brown eyes studying Lia as she stood in front of him.

"Mio dio," he murmured, "Non abbiamo semplicemente ballato questo ballo?"

"Sì. Facciamo una terza volta e ceniamo bene mentre ci siamo," she said, then held up a sequined red dress that was split nearly to the navel. 

"I'll wear this if-"

Lia never finished the sentence... Silvio was up like a shot and headed for the shower. Grinning over her small win, Lia proceeded to get dressed.

-

Silvio looked quite dashing in his suit and red tie. Lia was staring at his profile in the back of the taxicab as it motored towards the bright city center in the gathering dusk. Before they reached The Strip, though, she saw through the window beyond him several cars waiting to wind their way up the driveway of a very large, very fancy home.

"Oh. Let's go there instead, Silvio! We can pretend we're Italian investors, bluff our way in! It'll be fun! And good practice for me," she nodded sagely. Silvio seemed to contemplate it, then shrugged a 'why the hell not' before giving new instructions to the driver, who was all too pleased to keep the meter running. It took them nearly fifteen minutes in the line of cars before the valets let them out. Lia and Silvio locked arms, assumed their new personalities, stood a bit straighter, and managed to look down their noses at nearly everyone they encountered while simultaneously charming the pants off of each of them with their feigned, broken English. 

"Ah! Silvio, they have the wide wine!" Lia over-enunciated as the waiter with the tray of glasses stared at her acre of cleavage on display. 

"White, Belle. It is called the white wine," he lovingly corrected her as he picked up two glasses.

"Oh. Che imbarazzo," she giggled for the waiter's benefit, but he heard none of it. His eyes seemed cemented to her chest.

"Potrei rubare il suo portafoglio apertamente e lui non se ne accorgerà mai," she said, waving her glass back and forth in front of the waiter's face.

"Potresti aver rubato anche il mio portafoglio, devo dirti che ti ho chiesto di indossare quell'abito per qualcosa di più di un apprezzamento estetico. Vieni qui con me."

Silvio kept his voice low, but he mostly read the eyes of people around him as they spoke quietly together in the corner. He couldn't imagine that most people in the crowd spoke Italian, so he was probably fine to speak loudly- but a little caution never hurt. He reached into his pocket and removed a gleaming necklace.

"Girarsi. Per favore."

Lia spun around and, as the chain was draped and fastened round her neck, she heard Silvio's murmur in her ear.

"Mi piace stare dietro di te."

But he forced himself to back away, and she could feel him sublimate his passion, replacing it with a good natured grin.

"E sotto di te. E sopra di te. E accanto a te. E ... beh, dovremmo concentrarci. Quella collana mi è costata trecento dollari. Ho uno specialista che ce l'ha fatta per me. A meno che non lo si ottenga al microscopio, sembra esattamente il lavoro di un famoso gioielliere fiorentino, i cui gioielli sono ormai quasi inestimabili. Se quei diamanti e l'oro fossero reali, varrebbero trenta o quarantamila dollari. Se parliamo abbastanza, qualcuno con gusto lo riconoscerà; il tuo vestito, dopo tutto, ti richiede di guardare il tuo petto. Quando lo riconoscono, digli che si tratta di un antico cimelio di famiglia, ma fingi di non conoscere il suo valore storico. Qualcuno qui potrebbe pensare che ti sta derubando comprandolo per dieci, quindici o anche ventimila dollari. Stavo per portarci in un casinò in città, ma questo posto è un terreno di caccia ancora migliore. Divertiamoci e vediamo se qualcuno fa un'offerta. Se lo fanno, aumentare il prezzo mostrando il valore sentimentale della collana. Ma per trecento dollari ... quasi tutto ciò che otteniamo sarà profitto."

He grinned, proud of the potential for a big score. Not the sort of scam you could run too often... but it could be a lucrative one.

"Qualsiasi domanda?"

"No," Lia grinned like a shark. This was going to be fun! Turning together, she and Silvio began to slowly circulate through the assembled crowd of partygoers, weaving between the others like a silky ribbon. Occasionally, they would part, striking up individual conversations here and there with their jagged English and humorous anecdotes. Lia drank more of the 'wide' wine that she probably ought to, but it seemed to harm the con none. After a long conversation with a short, bespectacled man who claimed he was an art historian, she excused herself and wobbled a bit on her way back to find Silvio.

"I think we have a fish," she said, wiggling for effect. "That one...the small man near the fireplace... why is there a fireplace in Las Vegas? Anyway," she continued, waving her hands to dismiss the absurdity. "He knows his stuff. And I, the charmingly drunk Italian woman who thinks she is wearing her dearly departed zia's tenth anniversary gift from her zio, couldn't possibly part with such a piece of family treasure...could she?" Grinning now, she gave a cheeky wink, but there was a high color to her cheeks, too... one not supplied by the wine, or the makeup.

"I told him there was no possible way I could do such a thing... to which he responded, 'Of course not. Of course not! Say, is that your husband over there? Perhaps an introduction is in order?' Stronzo! I suppose the little woman should stand aside, let the big boys talk now, yes?" She breathed, then bit her lip. They were about to take this fool for a small fortune... why waste time and energy on being angry with him?

"Hmph," she finished, hand on her hip as she waited for Silvio to guide them into the next phase. A tray of drinks went by, and she grabbed another, just to have something to grip on to, instead of letting her fingers curl into a fist.

"He mentioned no numbers yet, Innamorato, but he is biting. I'll just come along and stand there like the pair of breasts that I am, while you set the hook with a nice, hard yank. Take him for all he is worth!" She whispered fervently, then relaxed into a composed, if sloppy, smile, and turned to guide Silvio across the room to the waiting man.

"Angelo, please meet Signor Pig. Oh, prego! Signor Prigg," Lia amended. "Signor, this is my husband, Angelo Russo."

Silvio grinned.

"Well. If my silly wife refuses to listen to a perfectly good offer for a silly sentimental necklace, obviously her husband must order her to do so. Don't forget to slap me and curse the whole way out the door after you hand it to me. It will provide a good excuse for my quick exit to follow you."

"Signor Prigg," exclaimed Silvio, reaching out to shake the man's hand and surprise him by kissing both cheeks, "how nice to meet you. Tell me, what do you work here in this Great American City? You a politician, yes?"

"I-"

"No? Sono scioccato. You have face of  leader. Have you considered running for office?"

"I-"

"Of course not. Such a dirty job here in America! Especially for a man of such noble bearing to do, unthinkable. What job do you work then please?"

"I-," Prigg seemed confused to finally get a sentence in, "-am an art historian. I am based out of Los Angeles, but I visit Las Vegas often for both my business and my hobby."

"Oh, what is hobby? Prostitutes?"

"Good Lord, sir, I-"

"Gambling?"

"Well... yes. But I also buy jewelry to sell in my gallery. And I must tell you, sir, I am interested in your wife's-"

"HOW DARE YOU!", Silvio fumed, as he flared his nostrils with rage and admonished the man, "Stop coveting my wife, you American pig dog!"

"Good Lord- I... I wasn't! You cut me off. I was saying I am interested in your- in the necklace your wife wearing. I simply must have it."

"Ah, that is different. I am quite attached to my wife, as you can see, but the necklace... eh... not so much."

"HOW DARE YOU!", Lia fumed, as she flared her nostrils with rage and admonished her husband.

"Now now now, volpicina, we must be polite and ear this man. How much would you pay, sir?"

"Well... $6,000."

Silvio immediately sighed and shook his head, saying, "I do not think you aware of how attached my wife was to her dear, departed aunt who gave her that. You would never give me the amount of money to make up for that. I would need some crazy amount of money that you would never pay. $25,000."

"That would be too much," responded Prigg, "but I will go $12,000."

Silvio raised an eyebrow- that was fast. But judging by his reaction to saying $12,000, he was getting close to his maximum. And how much did art historians make anyway? Still... a little more? He could borrow. 

"$15,000", responded Silvio as Lia continued to glare angrily at him, "I will have to take my wife shopping to make up for this." He dropped his voice. "And perhaps hire a divorce lawyer." He chuckled, returning his voice to a normal volume. "15, then, yes? We are agreed?"

He stuck out his hand. Prigg, looking overwhelmed, but undoubtedly imaging easily selling the piece for thirty or forty and making easy money. After a pause, Prigg shook Silvio's hand. Immediately after, "Angelo Russo" snapped at his wife and held out an open palm.

"Necklace to me, please?"

The color was rising in her cheeks again, and the triumph that caused it played beautifully into Mrs. Russo's 'anger'. Gritting her teeth hard enough to force the muscles of her face to shift, Lia snatched the necklace from around her neck and nearly threw it at Silvio. He caught it deftly as she spun on her heel and stomped away towards the foyer, and through the front door beyond.

Outside, Lia lifted the hem of her gown and slipped unnoticed into the tall hedges skirting the front of the home. Through the tall windows there, she watched Silvio raking his fingers through his hair, ever the fretful husband as Piggy's fingers riffed through what looked like traveler's cheques, the cheap necklace long since deposited in his coat pocket. Lia stood there a few minutes longer, admiring Silvio's mussed hair... did he know she liked it that way, or was it coincidental? Shaking her head in an attempt to clear it, it occurred to her then that they would need a car, and quickly. Moving back onto the patio, she merged into a small group that had themselves just left the party. When a valet approached and asked for a ticket, she began rattling off instructions in Italian before catching herself.

"Ho bisogno di un taxi.... eh, prego. I need a car. A taxi. Can you call one for me, please?" The valet rushed off to comply after tearing his gaze from her chest, causing her to sigh as she stood there, hands gripping her clutch as she stared off towards the lights of The Strip. They were so bright that it still looked like high noon.

A hand slipped around her waist and she smiled.

"Fifteen thousand. Just like that. Silvio, that was absolutely exhilarating! I feel like pickpocketing it back off of him and doing it again!"

Silvio grinned as they climbed into the cab together.

"I wouldn't recommend trying it again. We can run the same play, if you'd like. It's called 'the fiddle game' because it is often done with violins altered to look like priceless instruments. As long as we can find someone to create a cheap, passable, alternative, we could do it with anything. The guy I know who did the jewelry is great... but we should wait awhile until we do that again. Too much of a pattern and the local detectives start warning people."

Unless they tried to do it again tonight? They could make another ten or fifteen, or...

"Why don't we go celebrate? See if we can grow our money at the tables, eh?"