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Eden shakes her head. "Brick?" I ask.
"His real name is Bruce,” Eden says. "Because he's actually descended from Bruce Lee. Yes, THE Bruce Lee."
"Ah… no, I have not met Bruce. Who is Bruce?"
Eden sighs. "She calls him Brick because of the way he's built."
"Built like a brick shithouse," Flo says with a grin. "He's the new enforcer here at the club. Only he's here to watch you, honey."
A little tremor runs through me. "How do you know that?"
Flo shrugs and takes a big bite of a cookie. "I asked him."
The door swings open and Marialena walks in, tossing her beautiful, brunette head.
"Babe, do you even ever go to that gorgeous mansion in Tampa?" Flo asks, affectionately giving Marialena’s perfect ass a little slap.
"Not when Salvatore isn’t home," Marialena says with a little pout. "It feels so empty without him there. And I love to travel, and you know how much I love my family."
"Yes, but you're not at The Castle with your mother, you're here with us."
She waves her hand in the air. "First, that's because I had to visit Rosa at the shop." Her older sister Rosa owns a retail shop in Boston. "But it's also because I heard our newlyweds were in town."
Eden opens the oven and takes out a large tray of cookies. I gasp. "Are those your triple chocolate chip? She does love me. She loves me!" I squeal.
Eden begins to slide them on a cooling rack. "Now don’t touch, Quinn, you're going to burn your fingers."
"Since when has the fear of being burned ever stopped me?"
"That's what I'm afraid of," Eden says. Is it my imagination, or is she holding something back from me?
"Hey, can we talk in private?" Flo and Marialena are having an in-depth discussion about the most expensive line of foundation a woman can wear, the need for getting rid of wrinkles around your eyes, and how to look youthful. They're both stunningly gorgeous, but fashion is their thing.
As soon as Eden and I step over the threshold of the kitchen door, I notice the whir of a camera. I look up to see a video camera overhead. I also notice the line of guards standing at all the entrances and watching my every move. If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't even know who they were and wouldn't give them a second thought. But I notice how they come to attention when I walk through the door.
I notice how they follow me when we walk down the hallway toward the other rooms lining the hallway.
I turn around and look at them. "Hey. Are you following me?"
"Of course,” one of the men says.
"Did my husband tell you to?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Call me ma'am again, and I'll report you to my husband." I would have to make something up, but it seems threatening them with Adriano is probably the best thing to do.
He immediately looks abashed. "So sorry, ma—so sorry."
I take Eden by the hand and open a door.
“I'm sorry, but you're not allowed to go in a room alone."
I spin back to them on my heel and demand, "Says who?"
"Says me." Apparently, Adriano is done checking in with Sergio.
“Ah. Just the man I was looking for. We need to have a talk."
