He’s not available because I’ve been keeping him busy. Leon must know it as well as I do.
He sighs. “You must put your father to rest.” He pauses, choosing his words with the care of a man who’s weathered my storms before. “It is not wise to draw things out.”
My temper spikes. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” I demand.
“I think I’m talking to someone who is grieving.” His voice is steady, unafraid. “And grief can look like weakness to those who do not understand it.”
The truth of it stings. Few people knew my father survived the hit in Paris, so now few people know about my father’s death. When he was shot, we held a funeral, a closed casket affair here at the castle for Consortium members to pay their respects. But it was meaningless to me, because my father was still alive.
I still had hope then. It dwindled slowly, over years, until Robin Rivers so cruelly awakened it again.
But to those who don’t know, who have no idea, my sudden withdrawal this past week must have seemed strange. And there are always hyenas circling.
“Soon,” I say. “I promise. Soon.”
But Leon still doesn’t leave. “There is something else,” he says.
“Well?”
“I have received a request from Robin Rivers—” My heart soars so suddenly that I catch my breath. “—that we release the moneyto her now rather than wait until the end of the stipulated thirty days.”
Oh.
She just wants her money.
I hesitate for longer than I should. “Why can’t she wait?” I ask carefully at last.
Leon shrugs. “I can find out.”
“Don’t bother,” I tell him quickly. “But—the protection detail we put in place on Robin and her family, have they reported anything?
Leon shakes his head slowly. “No. You still worry about her?”
“Of course not. She meant no more to me than the rest of them,” I snap. “I just don’t want her to be seen as a soft target.”
“Of course.” Leon’s expression doesn’t change, but I catch the flicker in his dark eyes. He’s seen me lie before, but never to myself.
A thought strikes me. “How did she make this request?” Robin should have no way to contact me, so how?—
“I gave my number to her when she left,” he rumbles, as though his words are of no more consequence than the weather outside.
“Youwhat?” I stare at him.
“When she left, I gave her my number,” he says, as though rearranging the words will help me understand it better.
“Butwhy?”
He regards me with those calm eyes as though I’m being unreasonable. “In case she needed to reach you.” And then, skillfully, he changes the subject from him to her safety. “Do you want to read the reports the security detail has sent through?”
“Certainly not. All I care about is the Consortium’s reputation. We protect those who do business with us—no matter what that business might be.”
“You think she is in danger?”
“I think anyone who enters my orbit is potentially in danger,” I say coldly. “As you say yourself, some people see weakness when they do not understand something. Anyway, release the money to her, as requested.”
If she’s so desperate for it, I have no desire to torture her. I’m notthatpetty. And it means I can forget about her all the faster.
Still…the thought of Robin in such desperate straits doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t want her doing something foolish, like selling herself again. Or perhaps sheisin danger, even from some low-level Vegas thug. I see flashes: Robin cornered in an alley, those wide blue eyes filled with terror instead of defiance. See her hurt because I wasn’t there to protect her.
