I’d noticed that the guest suites shared a long terrace, but only I had stepped out here until now. Raisin was probably shivering under her duvet because I’d knocked on her door then tried the handle, but had realized it was firmly locked. Neev, I’d heardsnoring from the outside. And she only snored that loudly when she was hammered.
As for Stan, I’d known what he was when I’d stepped over to him in the airport lounge.
Somehow, in the whirlwind of talking to him, I’d forgotten the vow I’d made to myself about men who believed in the sanctity of hedge funds and not AK47s.
Being locked in this pristine palace had reminded me like little else could.
This kind of wealth never came without a cost.
“I thought you’d be asleep.” I shifted my attention onto the pool. “Or are you waiting for foot soldiers to burst in through your door like I am?”
“They won’t hurt us.”
“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you.”
I felt him step closer to me, and worse yet, I smelled him. There was a warm, musky scent that filled the air, but it was fresh and it told me he’d showered.
Some of the tension in my shoulders abated because I didn’t think he’d have done that if he were lying about our safety.
When I turned to look at him again, I found him staring straight at me. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
“I’m sorry.”
His words were simple.
Heartfelt.
I swallowed.
Not even Lucas and Cade apologized that often…
“You didn’t bring us here.” I rubbed my hands over my upper arms. “W-We lied to our brothers about our vacation. Our eldest… Lucas, he’s always so controlling about where we go. Cade’s just as bad. Neev’s overcome so much… We really just wanted to let our hair down. The websites said it was safe!”
“Maybe for ordinary people, but you’re not ordinary.”
“I’ve always considered myselfadjacentto my brothers’ world. Not a part of it.”
“A Lucas and a Cade drove me away from Irish territory yesterday. I assume they’re related to you?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my arms again. “This whole thing proves I’m kidding myself.”
“About?”
“I can be a nurse, I can dedicate myself to my patients, I could move away—” He tensed. “—but I’ll always be the brat of an Irish mobster.”
“We take our heritage with us wherever we go. There’s no running from it. It will always catch up to us in the end.”
That was the voice of experience talking—a weary, wistful, woebegone one.
“Who?” I asked simply.
“My father. Currau… Do you know his history?”
“He went to jail for killing his family.” I winced. “Your family.”
“It wasn’t true. TheFamigliamade him the fall guy. My grandmother managed to escape the culling and fled to Sicily. The leader of the Camorra helped her. Until recently, we thought he’d abandoned the Valentinis to their fate, but he had a hand in keeping us safe.
