Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“No, you keep them here to staff my clubs.”
“That was hurtful.”
“You’ll recover.”
He almost smiles, then doesn’t. The footage loops again, the sedan pulling away into the alley like a shadow I can’t get my hands on. I’ve never liked waiting. I like it less now.
Matteo shuts off the monitor. “Val needs distance from this.”
I look at him.
“I know you don’t want to hear it,” he says. “But if Adrian has eyes on your properties, your house is the next thing he’ll try to investigate. Maybe he can’t get in. Maybe he can. Either way, keeping her in LA makes her easier to track.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I cut him a look. “Careful.”
“I am being careful.” He sets the tablet down. “That’s why I’m telling you before something happens.”
I don’t answer right away because he’s right, and neither of us needs me to say that out loud. Getting Val out of LA is the safest move. It also happens to be the move most likely to make her hate me.
This is going to be a problem. Unfortunately, I’m running out of options that don’t sound like problems.
When I get home, Nico’s car is already in the driveway. I find him in the kitchen eating imported cheese straight off the board my chef probably arranged with more care than Nico deserves. Val is in the library on a vendor call, her voice carrying faintly down the hall.
Nico points the cheese knife at me. “You look like shit.”
“Good to see you, too.”
“I came to see my sister.”
“Clearly.”
He takes another bite and studies me. Nico may choose to stay out of my business, but he isn’t stupid. He knows how to read the difference between a normal bad day and the kind that gets people killed.
“What happened?” he asks.
I glance toward the hall. Val’s still talking. She sounds irritated, which means the vendor is alive and probably deserves to be.
“Adrian is getting too close to my properties.”
Nico’s expression changes immediately. “How close?”
“Close enough.”
He sets the cheese knife down. “Sebastian.”
I lower my voice. “He has information he shouldn’t have. I’m handling it.”
“I don’t care about your properties.”
“I know.”
“I care about Val.”
“So do I.”
He looks toward the hallway, and for once the anger in him burns off fast enough to leave the worry underneath. “She seems better here.”
“She is better here.”
“But not safe enough.”
I don’t answer.
Nico drags a hand over his mouth and lets out a hard breath. “Get her out of LA.”
Hearing it from him irritates me more than hearing it from Matteo. Probably because Nico has no operational reason to say it. He isn’t thinking about leaks or camera coverage or New York pressure. He’s thinking about his sister, and he still lands on the same conclusion.
“For a few days,” he continues. “A week. Whatever. Somewhere Adrian doesn’t know. Somewhere she can breathe.”
“You think she’ll agree to that?”
He gives me a look. “Not a chance in hell.”
That almost makes me laugh. Almost.
“She’ll hate it,” he says.
Before I can answer, Val appears in the kitchen doorway with her laptop tucked against her chest.
“What will I hate?”
Neither of us answers fast enough.
Her eyes narrow. “Amazing. I hate it already.”
Nico gives me a look that says good luck, then grabs another piece of cheese for the road. I wait until he leaves to bring it up properly.
Val is back in the library by then, curled in the corner of the sofa with her laptop open and a legal pad on her knees. Crackers sit on the coffee table next to a glass of water she’s ignoring.
I stop in the doorway.
She looks up. “You have the face again.”
“What face?”
“The one that means you’re about to say something I won’t like.”
I loosen my tie. “We need to leave town for a while.”
Her laptop closes immediately. “Wow. Straight to it.”
“It’s temporary.”
“No.” Her answer is immediate.
“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’re asking.” Val’s eyes stay on mine, sharp and tired. “It sounds like you’ve already decided.”
“Adrian is escalating,” I say. “He’s getting too close to my properties, and he has information he shouldn’t have. Until I know where it’s coming from, I want you away from LA.”
She sits back slightly, like she needs distance from the sentence. “You want me away from LA.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I haven’t decided.”
She laughs once, but there’s nothing amused about it. “That’s incredible.”
“Valentina…”
“No, really.” She sets the laptop beside her with too much care. That’s worse than if she’d thrown it. “Somehow you made it worse with every sentence.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“That is becoming your favorite excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“It is when you use it to make decisions for me.” She stands, arms crossing over her chest. “You keep dressing it up like protection, but the result is always the same. You decide. I react.”
“I’m not making decisions for you.”
“You walked into this room and told me we need to leave town.”