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I don’t look down at the document. Instead, I stare intently at her, familiarity rearing up, and my heart gives a strange thud, almost as if it has just missed a beat.
I know her.
Or at least, I recognize her. She’s the blonde who was in the bathroom with Bianca at the gala ball several weeks ago. The night my gut told me something was off. But I was so focused on Bianca that I ignored my instinct about anything being wrong.
The woman goes on with more waffle, but I tune her out, trying to control my shock.
What is Bianca’s role in this woman’s presence in my office? Does shehavea role? Is she aware that these people are our enemy?
Did she send them here to bring me down in retaliation for kidnapping her and removing her from her former life? Has she been playing a long game, toying with me, reeling me in with her innocent sexuality and her promise of forever through our child?
No. I cannot believe that of her. Bianca would not betray me in such a monstrous fashion. Not when she’s carrying my baby. Not when she looks at me the way she does, with love—however reluctant—in her expression.
I relinquish my hold fully on the gun and lean back in my chair with folded arms. They will find the gun when they search, of course. Together with other weapons stashed throughout the building.
But my legal team has always ensured I have the necessary papers and licenses for everything in this office—and the club downstairs, for that matter. Right down to the last pen or bottle of wine.
They won’t find anything incriminating here.
Danelli rushes in at this point, obviously alerted by one of his men. I hold up a hand, slowing his impetus.
“You may search,” I tell the woman slowly, “but if you damage one single thing in this building, I will bill your department for the cost.”
“A threat, Agosti?” One of the male agents steps forward, belligerence in his tone and stance.
So predictable. So ineffectual.
I raise an eyebrow in his direction. “No. A fact.”
The woman frowns at her colleague, surreptitiously waving him back. She speaks into an earpiece, telling the rest of the search team to come on up and get started.
I ignore them all then and turn to Danelli. “Get Carnarvon up here now. I’ll meet him in the club.”
Carnarvon and his team of lawyers are on retainer, and there is no one I trust more in a situation like this to ensure I come out unscathed. Their firm occupies office space on the first floor of this building, so I expect it will be less than five minutes before my lawyer or his representative is seated beside me in the club.
“Yes, Boss.” Danelli scurries from the room, already lifting his cell phone to his ear.
My secretary is next to receive instruction. “Get Bianca on the line for me. I will speak with her shortly.” At Dana’s nod, I turn finally to Matteo, one of the team who happens to be on duty tonight. “Watch them. Make sure they don’t break anything or take anything they are not supposed to. Remind them I will sue if they go outside the bounds of the warrant.”
Without looking again at the blonde or her offsiders, I leave the room and head downstairs to my club.
* * *
“No one can find Bianca, sir.”
My secretary has arrived in the club only a minute behind Carnarvon and two of his cronies. Carnarvon is in the process of taking a seat and laying his briefcase on the low table in front of the couches when he pauses at Dana’s announcement.
Her usually immaculate and calm face is set in unaccustomed lines of worry.
I blink a couple of times, trying to process what she’s just said. “That’s impossible. What the fuck do you mean, no one can find her? She’s on the boat with a whole security detail watching over her. She can’t have disappeared without them knowing.Findher!”
“They can’t.” Dana’s fingers twist together. She knows my dark side and clearly doesn’t want it directed at her. “They’ve looked everywhere. Scoured the whole boat. She appears to be…gone.”
Fury and fear fill me in equal measure. Did Rossi get to her somehow? Did I not leave enough security in place? Is my wife—and my baby—dead?
“Find her,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “Now.”
I snatch at my cell phone lying on the table and punch in Bianca’s number. It goes straight through to voice mail. I end the call and try again. Then again.
