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“I need you to do something for me.”
“Yes?”
“I need you to send a few men to Florence.”
His eyebrows immediately rose. “You’ve changed your mind.”
“No. I need them to tail Laura day and night—and make sure they aren’t seen.”
Bleu wore the same incredulous look on his face.
“We’ve got to put our best guys on this. Leonardo will use his own men to follow her, so they can’t suspect anything.”
His arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not sure if any of the men will agree to this.”
“Not all of them hate me.”
“It doesn’t exactly look good, that you’re willing to send men to protect a woman, but not send men to scout—”
“Just make it happen, Bleu.”
10
LAURA
I walked up to the iron gates of my father’s estate.
The security guys stared at me like they couldn’t believe I’d returned. They made their calls on their radios, and then the gates opened so I could pass. But they conducted a thorough search.
And I mean thorough.
They patted down my breasts, checked my bra for a knife stashed in the fabric, felt my entire pelvis, not just my ass.
“Do I look like a hooker to you?” I smacked one of them when he slid his hand right over my crotch.
Then they made me walk through a metal detector.
I cast them a glare once I finished. “Was the pat-down really necessary, then?” I walked up the steps to the front door, and the butler was there to greet me. He was wary around me, like his neck was on the line.
I wasn’t like my father. I didn’t kill innocent people. “I want to see him.”
“He’ll be with you shortly. Let’s go into the parlor.” He took me into the room where I’d spoken with him many times. He let me take a seat before he exited the room.
I sat in the armchair alone, combing over everything in the room, tempted to look for weapons he’d stashed. I knew they were everywhere. When I was a child, I was told I’d get a horrible beating if I touched any gun that I found. They were strapped underneath tables, on the backs of dressers, hooked behind TVs on the wall.
I wondered if there was one in that very room.
Someone entered the room—but it wasn’t my father.
It was Victor.
His face was strained, and his eyes were annoyed, like he wasn’t happy that I was there. “Laura.” He came close and sat in the other armchair. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to him.”
“Why?”
“Because heshotme. Why else?”
