“I need you to stay in the car.” I kill the engine.
Quinn hands over my phone and reclaims her syringe. “I’m not doing that.”
“You will if you want what’s best for Isla.” I understand her lack of trust. I get that there’s also fear eating at her, just like it’s feasting on me. But I can’t walk into this shadowed by a loose cannon in a designer suit and three-inch heels. “She’ll need you once I get her out. Let’s not risk both our lives.”
She stares at me—frowns—as if caught off guard by my consideration. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you do the heavy lifting. I’ll keep my distance until the coast is clear.”
She releases her belt as Miko approaches her door, grabs the handle, then recoils when he sees my accomplice.
“What the fuck?” he mutters, diverting to the back seat and sliding in. “Did you stop to pick up a passenger without me noticing?”
“Not exactly.” I turn my attention to the town house out my rear window. “We’ll discuss it later. For now, we need to figure out how to get inside that building.”
He follows my line of sight, the last of the day having submitted to the darkening night. “The place looks normal.”
“It looks deserted,” I murmur. “No lights. No movement. The driveway empty.”
Maybe Isla’s not here. If Langston’s fucked me on this, I swear to God?—
“It looks ideal,” Quinn says. “Unassuming. Easy sight lines. A garage to hide a car and any bodies that need to be dragged from the trunk, along with a quick exit across the street and over the retaining wall.”
I cut her a glance. So does Miko.
“What?” She scowls. “You don’t see it?”
Yeah, I see it. I just didn’t expect a pencil-pushing analyst to.
“Breaking a window isn’t exactly discreet from out here.” Miko pulls his phone from his pants pocket and scrolls what looks to be a map on the screen. “But there’s an alley in the back. A balcony, too.”
“I could knock,” Quinn offers. “I’ll pretend to be a neighbor looking for?—”
“No,” I cut her off. “If they’re pros they’ll know who you are.”
She bristles.
“What about me?” Miko asks. “If you’re right about who’s involved they’ll?—”
“But what if I’m not?” Indecision sets in, the feeling unfamiliar and un-fucking-welcome.
If Langston betrayed me to buy time to cover his ass, Isla might not be here at all. And if she is, and she’s being held by a Lorenzo loyalist, then they should be smart enough to treat her like the asset my father negotiated her to be.
But what if I’m wrong?
What if my bloodline has been discovered and our family is under attack—the first victim being the woman I was so clearly infatuated with on the upper deck of the yacht, in full view of the public eye, as we returned to the marina?
“Cavallo?” Quinn levels me with a concerned look. “Either figure out what you’re doing, and fast, or I’m calling the cops. I’m not leaving her in there.”
That’s fucking rich from someone who burned through precious time at the airport.
“Give me a minute.” I grab Miko’s phone and scan the satellite view of the alley. We need more men. More firepower.
“I’ll start out back…” My words trail as headlights appear at the far end of the avenue, advancing slowly toward us, the glare flooding into my car.
We fall quiet. Watching. Waiting.
A dark Suburban comes into view as it nears the town house.
Quinn sucks in a breath. “Are they…?”
