Page 214 of Diego

I let out a breath I did not realize I was holding.

I smile and look down at Leonardo again.

He has already lost interest in my sleeve and is reaching toward the closed laptop.

I move it farther away.

He follows it with his eyes, calculates the distance, and starts to climb over me.

“No.”

He pauses.

For half a second, I think he might actually listen.

Then he keeps going.

I catch him around the middle before he reaches the laptop and set him back beside me.

“Not a chance,” I say.

“Some things you'll just have to keep out of reach,” Victoria says.

I look around the room again, at the toys and cups and crumbs and abandoned rabbit, at Cecilia half asleep against Julia and Leonardo already plotting another attempt at the laptop.

And for the first time, I do not feel like I am watching someone else’s life.

I can see mine. Right here.

I'm just not sure what it means anymore.

Chapter Thirty Nine

Diego

The convoy breaks apart several miles before we reach the address. Ricardo does not want a line of black cars announcing our arrival, so we separate and approach from different directions, leaving enough distance between vehicles that anyone watching the road should see ordinary traffic rather than a group moving toward the same property.

I follow Matteo’s car for another mile before turning off, taking a narrower road through an older stretch of houses and wooded lots.

The address sits farther from its neighbors than I expected. The property occupies several acres behind a low stone wall and a long line of mature trees, with the house set well back from the road.

Nothing about it looks abandoned from here. Exterior lights burn near the entrance and along the detached garage, and a vehicle is parked near the side of the house, but there is very little movement for a property tied to the network Antonio has been tracing.

I park out of sight from the main drive and get out. Ricardo, Giovanni, Antonio, Nico, Dante, Matteo, and Tomasso meet us farther down the road where the trees block most of the view from the property. The people Ricardo sent ahead have already been watching the place long enough to give us a basic count.

“Three outside that we’ve seen,” one of them tells Ricardo. “One near the front, one making rounds along the west side, and one who keeps moving between the garage and the back entrance. There may be more inside, but there hasn’t been much activity.”

Ricardo looks toward the property through the trees. “Vehicles?”

“Two besides the one out front. Both in the garage.”

Giovanni has barely taken his eyes off the house since we arrived. His face gives away very little, but I would imagine that three days without contact from one of his people has stripped away any patience he might have had under normal circumstances. “His phone went dark less than a mile from here. If he reached this place, I want to know what happened before anyone realizes we’re looking.”

“We will,” Ricardo says. He studies the property for another few seconds before dividing us, sending two of our people around the far side to watch the rear while the rest of us approach from opposite directions. Nobody argues with the plan, and nobody rushes ahead.

We move through the trees rather than using the drive. Damp leaves give slightly beneath my shoes, and the cold has sharpened enough that every breath feels dry in my throat. The first guard comes into view near the side of the house, walking toward the garage with his attention on his phone instead of the property around him.

Dante reaches him first.