“At first it does.” Giacomo nods slowly, his smile turning sympathetic. “But I meant what I said. I’m still going to take you out and show you everything.”
“Like Dad will let you now. He’s tripled my security since my birthday. I have amaidthat follows me now like a lost puppy.”
“A maid?” His brows dart upward.
“I think she’s some kind of soldier, though, because I saw a gun under her skirts when I was trying to push her out of my room.”
“Ahhh.” Giacomo nods knowingly. “Undercover security designed to be your friend.”
“I don’t want to talk about that anymore. Tell me where you’ve been!” I clutch at his arm. “You’re literally my only source of anything that happens outside the estate.”
As Giacomo starts to delve into his latest conquest of drinks and cars, movement at the end of the table catches my eye.
I glance there for a brief second, then catch myself, and before I know it I’m staring.
He’s handsome. Not in the traditional pretty boy sense.
He reminds me more of those old movies where the sun-soaked rancher or sexy older pirate sweeps in to save the day.
The man slowly walks up the length of the table, taking languid steps that almost make it seem like he’s floating by.
Broad shoulders cause the olive t-shirt he’s wearing to strain across his muscular chest, thick arms threaten to burst the fabric at the seams, and his thick, black hair shimmers in the restaurant light due to the streaks of silver at his temples.
His face is deeply tanned, like a man who’s spent far too long in the sun, given how weathered he looks, and deep-set wrinkles along his brow shift as he reaches the lieutenant next to my father.
Giacomo’s voice drones on and on as I watch the stranger lean down and whisper something in the lieutenant’s ear.
They must know him since no one has reacted to his presence, but I’ve never seen him before.
I thought I knew all the men cleared to approach my father. Clearly not.
“Anyway,” Giacomo sighs loudly, dragging me away from my gawking session. “I was going to call her, but she was the wrong kind of clingy, y’know? They say bigger girls are always grateful for those sorts of things, but I was?—”
“Dick!” I elbow him sharply in the ribs. “How can you say something so horrible?”
He immediately bursts out laughing. “I knew you weren’t listening to me.”
“I was!”
“No, you weren’t. You didn’t even look at me until I started spewing the shit you hate. Where did I lose you?”
“Uhm…” The memories of our conversation don’t come.
Behind Giacomo’s head, I watch as the father at the birthday table suddenly lunges up in his seat, pulls an Uzi from his back and opens fire at our table.
He moves in slow motion, his mouth wide as he yells. Each muzzle flash of the weapon blinds me as rapid fire bullets fly at our table.
Glasses shatter into thousands of pieces, the flowers are torn to shreds, plates crack and split, and all the men on the opposite side of the table are hit instantly.
“Aerin!” Giacomo yells my name, but the words reach me so slowly that I barely hear him.
A hand grabs my upper arm and drags me out of my chair and away from the table.
As the chair legs catch in my ankles, I trip and yell, throwing out my other hand to try to brace my fall.
I glimpse Dad throwing himself over Mom and the two of them tumbling to the ground out of sight.
Giacomo hauls me back, keeping me upright even as I trip, then he’s in front of me with both hands painfully clasping my arms.
