“Yep.”
“And. . .would he mind if you finished the ballet?”
I blinked.
Would he?
I’d been so flabbergasted with everything; I hadn’t even brought up my ballet career. I’d been too busy trying not to getmyhand cut off.
I cleared my throat. “That is something I will be talking to him about later tonight.”
“Okay.”
“But. . .I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back.”
“Of course I understand. You have quite the excuse, missy.”
“I know. Right?”
“I’m more worried for you. This sounds. . .dangerous.”
“I’m fine. I’m in a high-end hotel, standing on a balcony and looking at a perfect view.”
“Will you be able to call me every day? Not just about the ballet, but just to. . .check in with me.”
“I will do my best.”
She sighed. “Good.”
Suddenly, a loud gunshot shattered the air, and with it, my fragile sense of safety. My heart pounded.
What the hell?
“Uh. . .I have to go.” I left the balcony. “I’ll call you again soon.”
“Please do—”
I hung up without saying goodbye, too nervous about that gunshot. It sounded like it came from the hallway or maybe even a room nearby.
Another gunshot sounded.
Oh shit.
I rushed back into the suite, got to the door, and opened it a little, making sure to keep my body hidden.
My twins stood there.
I raised my eyebrows. “What was that?”
One spoke, “It is coming from a few suite’s down, Mrs. Fortunato.”
“Okay, but do you know if the person is okay?”
“Don Fortunato is in there, so I am sure he is fine.”
“He’s. . .in there?”
“Yes.”
