It’s the one I had with me last night. Angelo or Kane must have found it in here and placed it on the coffee table for safekeeping.It’s only then I recall stealing an envelope from Lorenzo’s home office while he attempted to assault me.
Why did I take it?
Oh yes, the crest on the envelope looked the same as the one I saw in Vivian’s purse. My coffee forgotten, I rush over and grab my clutch.
The cream envelope, although crumpled, remains intact. The paper feels heavy.Expensive.
I stare at the crest, my brow scrunched. There’s a Latin phrase and a dragon within a circular design. I have no clue what it means, but I’m positive I’ve seen it before.
But where?
The coffee machine finishes brewing my drink, so I pick up the mug and sit at the table. Inside the envelope, there’s a small black card invitation with gold cursive text inviting Lorenzo Di Rossi to the White Rose Auction on Saturday, ten p.m. Does it mean tomorrow night? Or another Saturday? It’s not clear.
There is no location provided, so presumably the recipient, a.k.a. Lorenzo, knows where to go.
What the actual fuck is this event? And why would Lorenzo receive an invitation but not Angelo?
“What’s that?” Luka’s curious question breaks into my thoughts, causing me to jump. His skin gleams with a light sheen of perspiration, telling me he’s been throwing a ball for Coco. Knowing her, he had to run to retrieve it himself when she refused to stop rummaging around in the bushes. Cat shit is her new favorite snack.
“It was on your father’s desk last night.”
“And you stole it,” he guesses with a smirk. His gaze flicks to my bruised neck, and the smile fades. He picks up the invitation and envelope, examining them while I sip my coffee.
“Any clue what the White Rose Auction is? Or what the logo thing means?”
“It’s an English coat of arms, I think. No clue about the auction. I’ve never heard of an event called that.”
English. Cogs in my brain grind into place, and a memory of a flag flapping in the wind in the courtyard of a Scottish castle floats into my mind. The flag had the same emblem as the envelope on the table.
The man who kidnapped me, the English bastard with the plummy accent, is connected to Lorenzo. And also Vivian and her husband.
I’m not sure how and why, but I intend to find out.
Luka’s watching me when I lift my head. My coffee has cooled, and I’m no longer in the mood for watching TV. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that the Englishman is involved in Fina’s kidnapping.
“Give me your phone.” His brow furrows with concern, but he unlocks it and hands it over. I call my husband’s number. He doesn’t pick up, so I try Kane. No answer.
Bloody typical. The one time I actually need to talk to them, they’re unavailable. Of course, they could be in the middle of something dire, but time is running out. I’m not waiting around for them to call me back.
“Luka?” He stares at me, arms folded across his chest.
“Yes?”
“I need you to take me somewhere.” There’s no point me driving myself. The guards won’t let me leave the estate, and besides, I don’t have a driver’s license.Thank you, dear stepmother, for refusing to let me learn.
“Somewhere like the mall? Or a coffee shop?”
“No, Luka. Not the mall.” I bite back a scoff. Does he seriously think I’m in the mood for a spot of retail therapy?
“Look, cupcake, I know we’re all spiraling, but if I take you anywhere, it could lead to all sorts of problems. Like me losing my head.”
“I need to talk to Vivian.”
“Why?” His confusion is understandable given the horror stories I’ve told him about my lovely stepmother.
“Because I think she might know where Fina is.”
41
