Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Liesel
What the fuck am I doing? I broke up with the guy I live—lived—with all of five minutes ago, and I’m already naked with another guy.
He’s not just some guy, and you know it.
I may not have technically cheated, but I nearly did. Now, I’m blowing off my mom, my sister, and my dad to get off. I’d blow Jorge if he’d let me.
“Liesel, it’s all right to have a few minutes to escape all of this. A few minutes to feel good before facing reality all over again.”
I gaze up at Jorge, and I marvel at how he knows what I’m thinking.
Maybe my expression says it all, but I don’t think so.
I think he just gets me. Maybe he’s been in so many shitty situations—dangerous ones—that he’s learned how to cope with them.
Maybe he’s learned it’s okay not to be in a panic all the time.
I don’t know, but those explanations make me feel justified.
Otherwise, I’m the shittiest person alive.
As much as I want to revel in that escape, we can’t.
With a sigh, we stand, and I get dressed.
We both check our appearance in the mirror.
I smooth back my hair and twist to look at the back of my clothes, ensuring I look the same as I did when we came into the bedroom.
Jorge adjusts his rolled shirt sleeves for the same reason.
“Are you ready, chica?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
We head back into the suite’s living room.
My mom and Heidi smile, but neither of them makes it awkward.
At least no more awkward than it already is, since I’m certain they know things have progressed between Jorge and me.
We’re not a family where parents and children discuss sex lives, but my sister and I have both lived with men.
My mother’s not ignorant, and I just disappeared into a hotel bedroom with a man for at least twenty minutes.
I do my best not to wince when I sit, but my ass is definitely sore.
I can tell my mom and Heidi want to know what’ll happen next, but neither of them wishes to ask in case it reveals Jorge and I haven’t devised a plan.
I’m just about to open the conversation to make it easier for all of us when Jorge’s phone buzzes.
He pulls it from his pocket and glances at the door after looking at the screen. He answers, and it only takes a moment for me to realize it must be one of his guards.
“Something’s arrived, and it’s addressed to you, Anne. I’ll take a look before anybody brings it in.”
He needs to stop calling me that now that there’s nothing to hide.
“No, I want to know what it is regardless.”
“I’ll tell you the truth, but I think it would be better if I find out first.”
“No, we all have a right to know what it is.”
He puts the call on speaker, and the guard describes a small package that arrived.
Apparently it’s barely larger than a ring box.
Jorge’s expression tells me he believes having this call on speaker is the wrong decision.
He wants to shield my family and me from whatever the next shock will be.
The guard switches to Spanish without prompt.
He speaks so rapidly I can’t understand him—not that I speak enough Spanish that I would if he spoke slowly.
Jorge says little more than thank you before hanging up and walking to the door.
I follow, but he only opens it wide enough to see out and to receive what the guard hands him.
His shoulders are far too broad for me to see around, and despite my height, I can’t see over his shoulder to know what he received.
I observe his arms move, and I can tell he’s opened the package.
He nods before stepping away and closing the door emptyhanded.
“Jorge, what is it? What’s in the package?”
My questions are more demanding than I intended. I know how rude they sound, but if he received something from Papa, then I want to see it, even if it is grotesque. After all, my father’s hand is truly chilling in the fridge right now.
“It was an eyeball.”
Before he can say more, my mom screams. He walks purposefully to her and offers her a comforting embrace.
“Mrs. Schlossberg, it wasn’t your husband’s.”
“What?” It’s Heidi who asks the question the rest of us are thinking.
“It was a pig’s eyeball.”
“How can you be sure?” It’s my turn to pose the obvious question.
“Because a pig’s eyeball has a thicker cornea, and the iris is larger than on a human’s. I could tell just by looking at it that the iris wasn’t from a human eyeball.”
He steps back from my mom, and I realize he has a piece of folded paper in his hand. I move to stand beside him and my mom. We shift to make room for Heidi to see as well.
There’s nothing we don’t see.
My gaze locks with his, and I shudder. Queasiness washes over me as I consider the truth of that warning. Before any of us say anything else, my computer pings on the dining room table. I step away and unlock it with my fingerprint.
I really need to remove the biometrics and revert to a password.
I open my email, and there’s a folder attachment. “Jorge, I’m uncertain whether I should open it.”
Not only do I fear seeing what I might find inside, I worry about a virus or malware being downloaded onto my computer.
“Let me forward this to Joaquin and see what he says. We won’t open the folder. He can do that safely.”
He taps his phone screen and puts it to his ear as I step aside and gesture to the laptop’s keyboard.
I watch him forward the email. It must have only rung once or twice when Joaquin answers.
Jorge is quick to explain the situation.
We wait in silence as Joaquin must receive the email.
I can’t tell if he’s speaking to Jorge or not.
Jorge’s watching me, his attention solely on me, even though I’m certain he could tell you how many times my mom and sister have breathed in the last thirty seconds.
“Está bien. Gracias.” Okay, thank you.
Jorge hangs up and slides the phone back into his pocket. I notice a new email comes in, and he clicks on it. He opens the folder, and I can’t swallow. My gasp escapes before I can stop myself. My mom and sister rush forward. I twist the laptop toward them, and they spy the photographs sent to me.
There are ones from within this room but were clearly taken from outside. There are photos of Bastian and Friedrich being picked up, and even ones of them arriving at the loading dock here. There’s a photo of Bastian returning to the hospital.
“How did they get pictures so up close?” All the colors drained from Heidi’s face as she speaks.
“Drones. I feared a telescopic lens from one of the other nearby windows, but the clarity through the flimsy curtains tells me the camera was just outside the window. As for the photos of Bastian and Friedrich, it’s obvious these people knew to watch them, assuming you’d contact them, or they’d come to you.
I’ve arranged for guards to be with Bastian, so he’s not alone. ”
I nod my thanks.
It’s odd to consider the man I’m now involved with providing security for my ex-boyfriend, who was my boyfriend up until an hour ago.
Everything about this situation feels like it’s either on warp speed or slow motion.
Nothing feels like it’s happening at a normal pace.
Time has taken on a different value than it had three days ago.
With photos taken this clearly, the threats escalated.
Exponentially.
“I refuse to risk anyone’s safety beyond what’s already happening. It’s time to have my family come and help. It will take a day for my brothers or cousins to get here. I’d prefer to get all of you out of Frankfurt, but I can’t do that immediately.”
There’s a knock on the door, then it opens before Jorge can say anything.
He immediately reaches toward his lower back.
We’ve all grown accustomed to the sight of his gun holstered there since he stopped wearing his suit coat yesterday.
He relaxes as Friedrich walks to Heidi and engulfs her in his arms. I knew she was texting him as we waited for the return email.
“Friedrich, I’m going to ask for a couple of my family to join us to help me with this, since things just escalated.”
My sister’s boyfriend glances down at her before looking at my mom, then me. He appears in two minds whether he should say what he’s thinking, but he goes for it.
“My family is from Essen in the West. We’ve owned a major commercial construction firm for three generations. It means we’ve created strong business ties to many different groups in our community, employing workers from all different ethnic backgrounds.”
My brow furrows as I wonder what he’s getting at. I shift my focus to Jorge, but he doesn’t appear perplexed like I am, just the opposite. He seems to already know where this is going.
“Friedrich?” It’s my sister who asks for an explanation with just one word.
“We have connections to the Camorra.”
“As in the mafia? Friedrich, how do you know anybody in organized crime?”
Heidi sounds doubtful, but considering what we’ve learned about our family in the past two days—and what I’m certain she’s guessed about Jorge’s—it seems like a bit of an asinine question at this point.
I don’t know much about the Neapolitan mafia beyond the organization’s name, and that nobody wants to tangle with them.
“Do you remember Maximilian?”
“You mean your best friend growing up? Yeah, of course.”
“His father heads the Camorra in Essen. My high school girlfriend’s uncle and father are also high-ranking members.”
Heidi’s surprise registers across her expressive face, but Friedrich shifts his attention to Jorge.
“Like I’ve said, I can get the money quickly if we need it.”
I wait for Jorge’s reply as he studies the man who’s likely to be my future brother-in-law. He offers an appreciative smile but shakes his head.