Page 222 of Diego

I turn slowly, trying to take all of it in.

Victoria comes up beside me with Leonardo still clinging to her. “You didn’t know?”

I shake my head. “I haven't really been up to wandering lately.”

I should be surprised.

I am, I suppose, but only partly.

This is Diego.

Julia carries Cecilia toward one of the chairs and sits with her, keeping the little girl close while she whispers to her until the crying eases. Leonardo has stopped crying too, though his face is still buried against Victoria’s shoulder, his fingers gripping her shirt.

Giacomo joins another person at the security panel built into the wall. Camera feeds fill the screen in a grid: the front drive, the gate, both sides of the house, the terrace, the garage, and sections of the perimeter I never paid much attention to when I showed Diego the property. The feeds are all still live, the time stamps moving normally despite the loss of power and every outside connection.

“Gate,” the security guy says.

Giacomo turns toward the monitor.

I follow his gaze and see two dark vehicles stopped on the road outside the property. Neither is close enough to the gate to trigger the normal entry camera, but whoever is inside has made no attempt to hide. Headlights illuminate the stone pillars, and a third vehicle appears farther back a few seconds later before shutting off its lights.

My pulse jumps again.

Victoria moves closer with Leonardo against her chest. “How many?”

“We can’t tell yet.”

One of the rear doors opens.

A man gets out, then another. Both are dressed in dark clothing, and one walks directly toward the gate while the other stays near the vehicle. Two more appear from the second SUV. I cannot make out faces at this distance, but I do not need faces to understand that four men arriving together after our phones, internet, and outside lines have been cut is not some elaborate delivery mistake.

Giacomo points at the screen. “Nobody opens anything. Lock the secondary vehicle barrier too.”

“It’s already down.”

“Good. Get two people to the west side and keep the rest inside the perimeter.”

The security guard speaks into his radio, and this time I hear responses immediately. The communications inside the property are still working. Whatever has been cut off stops at the boundary, which is reassuring until I remember that it also means nobody outside can hear us.

The man nearest the gate reaches the keypad mounted into the stone pillar and tries something. Nothing happens. He tries again, then steps back and looks toward the SUV.

“They have a code?” Julia asks.

“No,” Giacomo says. “And even if they did, the system stopped accepting outside access as soon as communications went down.”

The man at the pillar removes the cover from the access panel instead.

Giacomo watches him for less than a second. “They know what they’re doing.”

My hand closes around the banister. “Can they open it?”

“Eventually. Not from that panel without getting through several other things first.”

That should make me feel better. Instead, I watch another man bring a case from the back of the SUV and kneel beside the first.

They came prepared.

“I think Diego was calling to warn us,” I say.