Page 105 of Unlock My Heart

Jermaine greets me in the kitchen with an espresso. “Your husband left around an hour ago,” he reports. If Fabien can monitor my comings and goings, I can monitor his. “Seems much nicer than Mr. D’Amico.”

“Yes and no. They’re both cut from the same cloth.” That warning is more for myself than anyone, and I take a sip of espresso before asking, “Is Saint here?”

“Haven’t seen him this morning,” Jermaine reports.

“Guess he’s been working overtime to pull whatever strings that got Fabien out of prison early.” I finish my coffee before calling for Lacey. She comes to heel, and I give her a scratch. “Keep an eye on things while I’m gone,” I tell Jermaine.

“Yes, Miss Sienna,” he says nervously, his gaze ping ponging between the two of us.

“Maybe he’ll get used to you,” I tell Lacey as we walk out. “Then again, maybe not. Keep all the men on their toes. And that includes Mr. Calvani,” I chastise her as we step outside, where the SUV is waiting for us.

Lacey and I slide into the backseat, and we make the short drive to school, where the dog remains with the driver as I’m escorted by my guard inside the building. He takes his post in the hallway as I slip inside the computer lab and pull up a search engine.

FBI Agent Kirksey produces no hits, but that’s not surprising; the man didn’t give off fed vibes. Unless Kirksey isn’t his real name, and he’s undercover?

He knew that I’m married to Fabien, which leads me to believe he has a tight connection to my husband; current husband.

See, this is why I don’t wear those rings.

Pulling up the prison’s website, an inmate search yields Kirksey Willis’ mugshot.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, except I’m no fool. Nobody in this business is my friend. I trust this Kirksey character about as far as I could throw him.

But before I go yeeting convicts, I close out the search and head to class, my guard tagging along. “Pit stop,” I tell him, slipping inside the restroom.

Needing a moment to regroup, I pull a tube of lipstick out of my backpack and touch up my lips.

Something pricks my ears, and I spin around, but it’s too late.

Angelo’s right-hand man, Maks, has his arm around my neck; his free hand stabs my pounding vein with a needle before the scream can leave my lips.

My last thought before darkness pulls me under is that I should’ve certified Lacey as my emotional support dog.

Chapter Thirty-One

Fabien

The present

I’m seated at mine and Sienna’s table inside the lounge, eagerly waiting for the show to begin. I tug at the top edges of my bulletproof vest, repositioning it.

My phone buzzes, and I grab it from my pocket and read the message from Saint.

The hotel closing went without a hitch. Angelo’s headed your way.

A grin stretches my face as I pocket my phone and wait. The old Fabien would’ve already put a bullet in my brother’s head, but if my prison stint has taught me anything, it’s patience.

And that patience pays off, because the door opens, and one of Kirksey’s men flicks on the light, with all guns drawn on Angelo.

“Returning to the scene of the crime; an interesting choice to announce your return,” my brother comments nonchalantly, and doesn’t that just piss me off.

“I’m a sentimental bastard; what can I say?” I lift a shoulder.

“You could start with ‘I’m sorry, Angelo.’ Getting on your knees and begging would certainly help your case.”

That gets a belly laugh out of me. “Knew all that unchecked power would go to your head, little brother. Have a seat.” I kick the chair across from mine, and it goes flying from the table.“Congratulations, by the way.” Angelo strolls across the room and grabs the chair, dragging it back to the table and sitting across from me.

“What for?” My head cocks. “Using the element of surprise with my early release? Bilking you out of millions on this hotel deal? Outwitting you and reclaiming my rightful place as boss? Or is it my devilishly handsome good looks?”