38. Antonio

Iglance down at Daniela, who’s fallen asleep in the car, with her head on my lap. She’s out cold. The excitement of the day—good and bad—has taken its toll. I brush a few strands of hair off her angelic face.

She proved beyond a shadow of a doubt today that she can withstand the tempest that is my world. Our world.

An hour after pulling out a pistol to confront a gunman, she was sipping an aperitif and smiling sweetly while a bunch of assholes fell over one another to impress her. She’s tough. Tougher than she should need to be.

But I still haven’t figured out a way to create a life where she doesn’t have to be so tough. Where she can be safe, and string together long stretches of peace. It’s the greatest failing of my life.

I scroll through my phone for new information. Lucas and Cristiano have been sending updates since we left this morning. They’re both at the property, and I need to talk to them, even if it means waking her.

I text them: Go to my office. Call when you’re set up on speaker.

Daniela stirs, but she doesn’t open her eyes.

If I had a single misgiving about the woman I lured across the Atlantic and held against her will, it was gone when Daniela got up on that stage today and squealed, “You did it!” to the adoring crowd. She actually danced a little jig as she beamed.

The woman born to be queen of the valley, my queen, took her rightful place today. She cast a light so bright that even I didn’t seem like an ogre standing next to her. If some fucker hadn’t gotten onto my property with a gun earlier, it would have been the perfect day.

Even if it takes my life, I will keep you safe. I’ll find a way. You have my word,I promise her silently.

The phone vibrates, and I answer immediately. “Where are we?” I ask my most trusted advisors.

“Every corner of this place has been searched, inside and out,” Cristiano says. “All clear. He acted alone.”

I’m going to need more evidence before I’m convinced he acted alone. “Do we know who he is?”

“Claude Sorento, a hitman from Algeria.”

He might have been there alone, but he wasn’t acting alone. Hitmen are paid mercenaries. They don’t kill merely for sport.

“Not the best in the business,” Lucas adds. “Lucky for us, you get what you pay for.”

“Any ties to Nikitin?”

“Money was wired to him from offshore. We’re tracing it. I won’t be surprised if it leads back to Nikitin.”

Nikitin has lost his loyal guards, but he has access to a boatload of money. The Russian government seized some of his accounts, but those were the ones they knew about. Billionaires always have accounts stashed for a rainy day. I know I do.

“Anything from Mikhail?”

“They’re still chasing their tails. Nikitin has managed to stay a few steps ahead of them. Mikhail denies it, but I think the oligarch knows he’s on his trail.”

“Do we have enough men for tonight?”

“We can always use more. But we’re satisfied with our numbers and capability. I’m not making excuses for Tavares,” Cristiano says, quietly, “but I don’t see how he could have kept Sorento out. He killed the delivery man, and had forged credentials already in place. An excellent forgery, by the way. The guards swept the truck when it arrived, but along with all the dishes, there were thousands of utensils, plus pots and pans, and serving pieces that kept setting off the metal detectors. We think the gun was hidden in the bottom of a metal box holding forks. It was lined in satin, which helped obscure the false bottom.”

This is a goddamn nightmare. Next year we’re having a fucking picnic with paper plates and plastic forks. “He have help from the inside?”

“Nothing we’ve been able to pinpoint. We did question Paula, Daniela’s maid, who had given his name to the guards to put on the approved list of suppliers.”

“And?”

“She set off some alarm bells,” Lucas continues, “but it might have been because she was so damn nervous. She was sweating and crying. We’re holding her, and we’ll question her again later. If she has anything, I doubt it’s going to be earth-shattering.”

Canceling tonight is out of the question. If I can’t secure my own damn property, how can I be trusted to keep everyone else’s secure? Besides, it goes against everything I believe in, everything I am, to run and hide. The party’s happening. Although, I do wish we had another day to investigate more thoroughly.

“So to recap, we’re having a huge fucking gala tonight, and we have shit. We’re essentially as vulnerable as we were this morning.”

“No,” they say in unison.

“The entire place will be locked down at four thirty,” Cristiano explains. “No one on or off the premises until the guests arrive at eight. If any more help is coming, they have to be here before four thirty. If they’re leaving, they need to be gone by then. No exceptions, except for you and Daniela. That gives us three and a half hours to sweep everything one more time.”

I glance down at Daniela, who’s stirring again. “My family will all be there tonight.” Everyone who’s important to me. “Warn every guard and every soldier you run into today. There will be no mistakes.”