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“Something funny?” she asks, clearly not amused.
I shake my head. “Inside joke. You had to be there.”
She turns back to look out the window, and I tap my hands on the steering wheel.
At least she’s covered herself up for the trip, of that I’m glad. I don’t need unwanted distractions about my prisoner, wandering around with hardly any clothes on.
I’m intent on traveling in silence, and thankfully she is too. I feel like a coward having Rocco and Santino tag along, but it’s best they be around until Angelo and I can work out which soldiers will be patrolling and monitoring her while I’m not in the house.
As I’ve been maintaining to Angelo, I’m a very busy man and I don’t need this added stress on my shoulders, yet he seems to think I’m fucking Superman.
My brother trusts me, that’s why. We could obviously leave her at Fortress, but that would mean taking her down to the holding cells where we usually bring actual prisoners, not mafia princesses. It would seem a trifle severe putting her through that after everything.
Even though she’s a wildcat and probably unstable, it doesn’t stop me from asking her, “Are you cold?”
Fall is almost over, and winter is beginning, my favorite time of the year. Ma always made Christmas special, which is why I like it so much. Even though Pa died when I was young, I still have happy memories of us growing up.
She doesn’t even glance my way. “No.”
I know she’s purposely ignoring me, but that only makes me all the more curious. “If you need to call your friends and explain where you are, I have a secure line in my study.”
“That’s gallant of you.”
I realize by now, that her not showing up to wherever she was going will rouse suspicion.
It’s also crossed my mind that she’s not made any regular social media posts over the last seven days and she’s usually on the damn thing every day.
“Then there’s social media.”
She turns to me. “What about it?”
“If you don’t post something, it will cause alarm.”
“Then give me a phone.”
I snort. “That isn’t what I mean. Vaughn, our IT guy, can post something for you…”
“I’d rather die than have one of your goons go anywhere near my social media pages. I’ve spent a long time getting the aesthetics right and posting decent content.”
“I can see that,” I mutter.
She looks at me sharply. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I smirk. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Have you been spying on me?”
“Spying?” I give her a bewildered look. “Because your social media pages, which I might add are ninety-five percent fake, are just another way for people, especially young people, to go around with their faces stuck in their phones rather than actually talking to people.”
She turns in her seat to face me, ready for battle. Clearly, her precious social media platforms have hit some kind of nerve.
“They are not fake!”
“Really?” I cock a brow. “That’s how real people live, right? Their life is fucking perfect. Give me a break.”
“You’ve been looking, haven’t you?” She shakes her head. “What did you find that you didn’t like, Marco?”
Everything. Especially that fuckface, Vladimir.
