Page 67 of The Strength Of A Woman

What she said to me last night made me so angry that I couldn’t sleep. Who was that man who consistently did that to her, and how old was she when it happened?

She couldn’t be older than a teenager. It turns my stomach.

I’m trying to move away from that aspect of her life and think about what lies ahead.

She’s now my leverage, but unlike them, I don’t plan to destroy her. Quite the opposite.

I want to give her a chance to live a different life, one of her choosing.

She’s also my hostage in a way, which she doesn’t mind, and also my protege, which I don’t mind.

Having her in my house gives me another reason to accomplish what I’ve come here to accomplish.

Never in a million years would I have imagined that she would be part of the story.

I knew it would take some time to figure out this story, but I’d never imagined it would come to this. Holding this precious thing that Varela wants.

Stupid old fool.

The car slows down as it enters the road leading to the property.

It’s a beautiful day, with blue sky and not a cloud in sight.A breeze makes the trees rustle and stirs up little storms of swirling petals.

The driveway looks normal. No extra cars. No extra security. It may be that they haven’t noticed that she was gone.

I suspect she rarely shows up for breakfast, and no one in the house has cared to check her room.

Several staff members meet and greet us as usual.

Perhaps Giorgio’s men have noticed that mine are heavily armed and tense like the gravel we are walking on.

But there’s still no red flag for them, so things unfold smoothly as they normally would.

Nona steps out of the house, her eyes fleetingly brushing mine.

She’s reading mine as much as I’m reading hers.

She may know something, but I’m still not convinced she knows Leilani’s missing.

Had they known that, the house would look different now.

They’d expect to be attacked, confronted.

They know what’s in play and how hot-headed someone like Varela can be.

They’d suspect someone had framed them and wanted to blackmail them, which is both possible and true.

They’d be frantic and quick to reach for their guns.

“Giorgio is on the patio,” she tosses at me casually, and nodding softly, I head that way.

A few of my men stay behind and start chatting with Giorgio’s guards. The rest follow me inside, which is unusual, but no one is here to comment on it.

I don’t want to make it look like a declaration of war yet––I have different plans––but I can’t risk a conflict inside the house without having protection.

I’m armed, and so are my men.

Sweetly smelling flowers move in the wind as I walk toward the lounging area by the pool.