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Diaz emerged from the warehouse, his eyes landing on hers.
“You too,” she said, ending the call as she looked straight into Diaz’s eyes.
Diaz strode toward the car, climbed in, and started the engine without a word.
“Everything okay?” Anna asked when he put the car in reverse.
“Fine. The trip is cancelled. I have something I need to deal with,” he said without any regret.
“I understand,” she said gently.
“Who were you talking to? You’ve had a lot of phone calls tonight, Anna,” he said, his words clipped.
She stole a deep breath. She needed to play the part—be the Anna he expected. The one who stood up to him while treading carefully. The strong, assertive Anna, whom he both loved and hated. Some men were like that: they said they wanted a strong woman, but only when she was strong around everyone else, and then submitted to him. That’s what Diaz wanted, but Anna’s refusal to give it to him kept him hungry. She was a challenge, and Diaz loved a challenge.
She raised an eyebrow, looking suitably annoyed.
“Post service call for my car. Call them,” she said, throwing the phone at him while he was driving.
He swatted it away, cursing under his breath. She didn’t move to pick it up. If he opened her phone and looked through it, he wouldn’t find anything suspicious. And she had full confidence Jackson would answer all phone calls as “Lamborghini Oradale” until further notice.
“This needs to stop. I understand you’re stressed, but you are not going to take it out on me,” she said, still staring at him.
He didn’t respond.
Whatever had happened in that warehouse had put him in a mood—a mood Anna didn’t want to be around.
When he headed for her house, she was glad.
He pulled up in the garage and finally looked at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m under a lot of pressure right now, Anna.”
She nodded. “I get it, but driving away the people who have always been loyal to you won’t help you,” she said as she grabbed her phone and got out of the car.
He didn’t respond, but handed her the keys before getting out of the car.
“How are you getting home?” she asked, just as a black sedan pulled up in her driveway. She looked at the front window, but it was tinted so dark she couldn’t make out a face.
“I have a lift,” he said, stating the obvious as he walked away.
Diaz slid into the passenger seat and the car reversed. She stood staring at the driveway, but no other cars passed by.
She wondered again who had picked Diaz up, but she didn’t have a clue and she had no way of finding out right now.
Patience, Anna.
She looked at the door that led into the house. Suddenly, she realized she couldn’t hear Miss Casino’s purring. She always greeted Anna. Always.
She opened the door, rushing inside, calling her name.
But silence met her. The little bell on her collar didn’t make a noise.
Anna rushed through the house, into the backyard. Panic was climbing up her throat. She flicked on the lights, her chest sinking with relief when she saw Miss Casino sitting on the fence.
Then she saw the bowl.
Anna ran toward Miss Casino, but she seemed fine. Anna grabbed the bowl from the fence, noting the milk-like substance in the bottom. She smelled it, and it appeared to genuinely be milk.
