Chapter 1 #3
The open plan gives a good line of sight from the front door through the main living areas. A large dining table sits beyond an archway, in front of a wall of windows that opens up to a beautiful garden.
To the left of the dining table, through another archway, I catch a glimpse of a kitchen that's likely just as large and impressive as expected of this house. There’s a woman there, her back to me, standing at a big island that's just visible from my angle.
I guess not all staff have been banished. This must be someone trusted.
All those glass windows I saw from the outside look beautiful, but they're a security nightmare. I make a mental note to check for reinforced glass or security film.
I also need to check the access points, hallway structure, choke points, windows, camera placement, possible dead ground, and how far a detail could be from the principal and still respond in time.
Teresa is talking as she leads me deeper into the house, asking about my flight, about my mother, about whether San Antonio is still as hot as hell this time of year. The easy family questions. The normal ones. I answer them because I can walk and assess at the same time.
There are a few ways to get in and out of this house, and I’m already cataloging them—
Teresa sighs and drops my arm before turning on her heel to face me. "You're doing it, aren't you?"
I stop. "Doing what?"
"Scoping the place out," she says, a knowing look in her eye. "Looking for weaknesses, planning your attack routes. You've been doing it since you drove up to the gate."
"It's part of the job," I say to Teresa. "If I walked into your house and didn't do it, I'd be bad at my job. You'd be disappointed."
She shakes her head, a smile playing on her lips. "That's not what we hired you for. You're here to protect Caterina. She's not even here."
"Call it a free consultation,” I tell her
“I don’t want that,” she says. “I want to catch up with my cousin before you get busy with the job. You can turn it off for the night.”
She's wrong. I can't turn it off. It's not a switch. It's who I am. But I don’t say that. I just nod.
"Okay," I say. "No more shop talk." It's a lie. I'll never stop assessing my surroundings, but I can pretend to, for her. That’s a compromise I can make.
"Good," Teresa says. "Now, dinner will be ready soon. Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, beer, anything?"
"Water is fine," I say. "Thanks."
She nods and disappears into the kitchen.
And just like that, I'm alone in the middle of the living room with Vito Conti.
He hasn't said a word. He hasn't moved. But he hasn't taken his eyes off me either.
He is a man who understands silence. Who is comfortable with it. Who uses it as a tool.
And normally, I would be perfectly fine with letting that silence stretch between us. I am pretty comfortable in silence myself.
But not today.
"How much danger is my cousin in?" I say, keeping my voice low, my eyes fixed on him.
He raises a single brow. "You're here as protection for my sister."
"I know my job," I say, hardening my voice. "But I don't have blinders on. A threat was made against Luca Conti's children. My cousin happens to live with one of them. And it's not much of a stretch to assume your son, your heir, is included in that threat as well."
He studies me for a long moment. "I won't let anything happen to my family."
That's not an answer. It's a deflection. A politician's answer. I hate them.
I can hear Teresa chatting with the woman in the kitchen and know I don't have too much more time before she comes back.
"Let me remind you that they're my family as well," I say, taking a step closer to him. "I'm not okay with the way you started your relationship with my cousin. And if I hadn't been out of communication when it happened, I can promise you the outcome would have been very different."
"And what do you think you would have done, Mr. Texas?" he says, a hint of amusement and mockery in his voice now. "Charged in guns blazing to rescue your damsel in distress? You wouldn't have made it very far.”
“You don’t charge onto an island guns blazing,” I say, wiping the look of amusement right off his face. He didn’t expect me to know where he took her. I lower my voice even more. “Personally, I’ve had a lot more success with an underwater approach."
I reach into my pocket, pull out something small and smooth, and toss it to him.
He catches it instinctively and studies the small seashell that I know he recognizes as a decorative piece from the big house sitting on the island that doesn't show up on any maps.
The one they call Conti Cay.
Even though she wasn't there anymore, was back in New Jersey and claiming to be in love by the time I found out, I still had to see it for myself.
I had to see where he took her.
I took the seashell while I was there because I knew I might need it as proof one day. Proof that I could get to her if I had to, that there was nowhere he could take her that I wouldn't find her.
Now it's proof that I'm not some fool he can intimidate.
His eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of something in them.
Surprise. Respect. Fear. It's a volatile mix, and I have a feeling it's a dangerous combination in a man like him.
"Let me be clear," I say, my voice dangerously low now.
"I'm here to protect your sister. But my cousin's safety is non-negotiable.
If she or her son gets so much as a scratch because you're not being forthcoming with me, our little conversation right now will look like a friendly chat. Are we clear?"
He closes his fist around the shell, and I hear it crack in the quiet space between us.
For a second, I think he’s going to lunge at me. That this is it, this is the moment where the civility cracks and we see what we’re really made of.
But he doesn’t.
He looks at me, and his eyes are like chips of black ice.
"Then let me be clear," he says, his voice dropping to match mine. "Cristiano isn't just my heir, and Teresa isn't just some woman I took. They're my entire world. Their protection is not a secondary concern. It is the only concern. They are my only priority."
He takes a step forward, closing the space between us until we are almost nose to nose. I can feel the heat coming off him, the tension thrumming in the air.
"Regardless of how my relationship with her started is irrelevant," he says, each word precise and firm. "They are mine. And I would burn everything and everyone to the ground to keep them safe. That includes you, if you get in my way."
It’s a threat. A bald-faced, unapologetic threat.
And, strangely, it’s exactly what I wanted to hear.
He's not going to be careless with her safety. He’s not going to treat her as an afterthought. He'll protect her, not because she's my cousin, but because he can't bear the thought of losing her.
I can work with that.
"Good," I say, stepping back and putting some space between us. "Then we're on the same page."
Teresa walks back into the living room with a tray, three glasses of water on top. She looks from Vito to me and then back again.
Her smile is gone. "What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Vito says, his demeanor shifting in a way that's so seamless it's almost terrifying. He slips his hand into his pocket, then steps forward to take the tray from her.
"We were just talking security," he adds, glancing at me. "Stuff you don't want to hear."
I force my face into something resembling a neutral expression as I take a glass from the tray. "Got some details out of the way."
Teresa looks from one of us to the other again, her brow furrowed. "For a couple of professional liars, you two are terrible at it."
Vito sets the tray down on a large wooden coffee table and puts a hand on her back, leans down, and kisses her temple. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."
"Right," Teresa says, shaking her head, but she lets it go. "Well, since you're both done measuring your dicks, let's eat."