The cool-down timer is keeping perfect time, but my brain is making it seem as though seconds are dragging. I check the camera feed in Casa D’Medici again. The SUV hasn’t pulled up to the parking garage yet.
I absolutely hate that I can’t track where she is. I’m so used to having everyone I care for at my fingertips that now with her, I feel reverted back to the time of dial-up internet that cut off the telephone to the house, playing video games with a wired controller, and, god forbid, printing driving directions.
Should I feel guilty for putting spyware in the link I sent her for this call?I don’t feel guilty. When she clicks the link, I’ll have access to her phone, everything she does on it, and her location at all times.
It’s necessary.My wolf doesn’t care about guilt, only that we have the access.
I look at the screen, watching the parking garage again.
If I should feel guilty, I absolutely don’t. It’s not like I’ll sell her data to a third party.
The timer on my printer beeps, signaling that it’s done, and the door auto unlocks. I start to unload it and quality inspect each piece. After every piece, I look for the SUV I saw on Valor’s home security system to turn up at the parking garage.
I’ve packed up the entire batch when the SUV finally pulls up out front of the skyscraper that the D’Medici’s own in Gold Coast. The driver opens her door for her, and she steps out, the black parka covering her beautiful blue dress. Her blonde hair spills out over the dark fabric, and it catches the artificial light, making it look like liquid gold.
In a few short steps, the doorman opens the front door to the building. I didn’t expect her to use the formal front entrance, but it makes more sense when I flick to the lobby’s interior camera view.
Berto and Gregorio are standing in the lobby waiting for her.
The hair on the back of my neck rises.Why hadn’t I thought to check in on them while she wasn’t home?I force myself to forget that thought. I can’t monitor everyone at every second of the day.
“Dad? Berto? What’s wrong? Where’s Mom?” Leticia looks back and forth between them.
The lobby camera is doing its job flawlessly.
“She’s in bed, let’s go upstairs.” Gregorio gestures for Leticia to lead the way.
They bypass the front elevators and head straight to the penthouse executive one. The elevator camera doesn’t have sound, but it doesn’t matter because no one is talking.
They don’t make it two feet into the house before they pounce. The foyer camera picks up the video feed and collects audio as it bounces around the space in an echo.
Her brother demands first, “What did you learn at dinner?”
“Valor’s house is nice and Antonellaseems happy.” Leticia answers quickly and quietly. “Is that all this is? You’re questioning me because I had dinner with Antonella?”
“And Valor Cavanagh.” Gregorio, her father, adds to her statement. “What did you talk about?”
“Antonella’s job, what it’s like learning to spell a new last name, Kerrianne’s tortoise, and how good the food was.” She rattles off the highlights of dinner.
And us.My wolf tries to add. He should see the conversation for what it is: an interrogation.
It sets my jaw tight.
“Don’t be silly. Surely he pushed you for information on us.” Gregorio narrows his eyes as he steps toward her.
Why should she tell you what they talked about? Is it a truce or isn’t it, Gregorio?I debate starting a recording.
See how she handles it first.My wolf encourages me to have faith in her.
“Honestly, I don’t think Antonella gives two cares in the world what you’re doing. You’re the one who forced her to be married off when she called the truce, and she’s forgotten your existence.” Leticia is fierce, making her dad take a second and putting him on his heels.
Atta girl.I smile but then see the cracks in her armor. Tight shoulders and clenched fingers. It’s false bravado.
“Surely she asked for any information at all.” Berto wraps an arm around her and leads her from the foyer to a formal sitting room. I bring up the camera feed and hear what must be the tail end of a question. “Even something small like how we’re doing?”
“The only time you came up was when she asked if I was still going to Christmas in Italy or if I was staying home.” Leticia shrugs him off and, with a yawn, perches on the arm of the sofa.
“Of course you’re coming to Christmas.” Gregorio tosses his head as if insulted.
