We reach my office. Lorenzo stops outside.
I turn to him. “Make sure she has what she needs.”
“She will.”
“But not too much.”
His smile is thin. “Of course.”
“Lorenzo.”
He lifts a brow.
“She is not to be toyed with.”
Something changes in his expression.
“I wasn’t planning to toy with her.”
“I am not only speaking to you.”
His eyes hold mine.
He understands then.
“I’ll make sure Ricardo behaves,” he says. “And Diego.”
I open my office door.
Before I step inside, I glance once down the hall.
I cannot see Victoria’s office from here.
That was the point.
I still know exactly where she is.
I step into my office and close the door. My desk is already lined with the morning’s work. Acquisition updates. Security reports. A message from Tomasso sent at two in the morning telling me Claire did not like the restaurant he took her to, a favorite of his,which he considered an unforgivable character flaw. A shorter message from Matteo sent at seven with a link to an article about postwar economic policy I did not ask for and will probably read anyway.
My sons.
My brothers.
My company.
My city.
All of it requiring attention.
Yet when I sit, I do not reach for any of it.
I open my email instead.
Victoria Murray’s name sits near the top of my sent folder.
I close the folder.
Then open the security feed for the thirty-second floor.
