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My heart drops to my gut. “What errand?”
“Just something I have to do. It’s family business, and I don’t want you to worry about it. I’ll be in touch.” The line goes dead.
I gulp and look at Vinnie. “He’s not coming home. Says there’s something he has to do in Austin tonight.”
Vinnie’s jaw goes rigid. “He’s not thinking…”
“No. He wouldn’t. He’d never go back to the McAllisters’ place. Would he?”
“You know him better than I do, sis.” Vinny rubs his jawline.
“That’s the problem,” I say. “I know him. I know Falcon. But I also know Savage. And I’m pretty sure he is the one we’re dealing with.”
25
FALCON
I pull up to the wrought-iron gates of Savannah’s father’s mansion, my heart racing. The imposing metal stares down at me like a sentinel, daring me to take one step closer. Right. I don’t have Leif here to break me in like I did at the McAllisters’ place, but I will get in, and I will talk to Vincent Gallo.
Security cameras are trained on my every move. Every inch of this place is under surveillance. Thanks to Leif’s tutorial when we broke into Declan McAllister’s place, I know where to look and what I’m dealing with, except?—
“Damn,” I mutter to myself. “This might be more secure than the McAllisters’ place.”
I drive up to the gate and press the intercom button as sweat beads at my temples. I stare at the camera fixed on me as I wait for someone to answer.
“State your name and purpose,” a voice crackles through the speaker.
“Falcon Bellamy,” I reply, my tone firm and unwavering. “I’m here to see Vincent Gallo.”
The voice pauses, and all I can hear is some rustling and crackling on the other end. My heart is beating more rapidly than normal, but not overly so. I’m not frightened.
I’ve faced worse than Vincent Gallo in the last eight years.
Of course, those inmates didn’t have snipers trained on me. The same can’t be said for Savannah’s asshole father.
“You may enter,” the voice finally responds.
The gates creak open, beckoning me forward.
I drive through, up a circular driveway, and an armed guard gestures me to a parking spot outside the mansion. I step out of the car, and an eerie silence hangs in the air, as if the whole of the estate is holding its breath.
The mansion itself is beautiful. The warm, earthy tones of the stucco walls are speckled with arched windows, and the entire structure is crowned with a red-tiled roof. Lush landscaping encircles the building, with beautifully trimmed gardens filled with classical Roman-style fountains, statues, and pathways. The whole house is probably gorgeous in the daytime.
However, in the black of night, it might as well be Dracula’s castle, luring me in with the sole intention of bleeding me dry.
“This way,” the guard says.
An armed escort.
Yeah, I’ve seen this before.
The mansion may look all glitzy and elegant from the outside, but the inside is a prison.
Just like the McAllister manse when Savannah was their prisoner.
Vincent Gallo’s no prisoner, of course, but his wife most likely is.
Then again, this security isn’t made to keep prisoners in. No, it’s made to keep intruders out.
