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She looked overwhelmed with everyone staring at her. I took her hand to calm her as I led her to her dad. Her hand was trembling in mine.
“You got some time?” Bronson’s voice startles me from my thoughts.
I look over at him. “For the man whose daughter I’ll be protecting? All the time in the world.”
“Come with me,” he says.
I’m surprised when instead of leading me to the library where we had our last private discussion, we walk through the maze of hallways in his mansion until we’re finally out the back door and into the night.
I follow him around the property, to his oversized detached garage with bays housing all of his cars. He chooses the electric Hummer, starting the nearly silent engine with a scan of his fingerprint. “Get in,” he says. I climb aboard. He flips the headlights on, illuminating their winding stone driveway. The cab is huge, a nice fit for a bigger-built guy like me.
The interior is lush, wide seats covered in thick black leather, a white stripe running down the middle of the seats. The console is low, built in between the two seats like a flat table between them.
We drive through the Hamlet, admiring its beauty. The elegant mansions tower over the streets.Each has intricate details like painted shutters and flower boxes spilling out vibrant blooms of color. The yards are impeccably maintained with lush grasses and perfectly trimmed hedges.
Stepford.
At the center of town stands our quaint white clapboard schoolhouse with a bell tower that can be heard throughout the Hamlet. We drive by the church, its stained glass windows glowing brightly in the dark night from the lighting within.
He turns down a cobblestone driveway to a large gray home. Its sleek stone facade is complemented by a stunning terrace overlooking a bubbling fountain below, its immaculate gardens beyond, overflowing with seasonal flowers set against an acre or so of emerald-green grass interspersed with tall trees whose branches rustle in the night air.
He pulls to the front of the home. "This," he says, putting the car in park, "will be Katie’s new home in the Hamlet. For whenever she chooses to visit. Her mother, of course, is delusional, holding out hope that Katie’s fiancé’s brother Vincent will return to the castle, relieve his brother, and that the couple will eventually move here to settle down. But you and I both know?—”
“A man won’t want to give up power that easily. Not after he’s tasted it,” I say. “Even to his brother.”
“And I get the feeling Vincent’s heart isn’t in it anymore. Giovanni is there to stay.” He runs a hand through his thick hair. “Anyway, Paige and Charlie call this house 'livable' which means it’s perfect. Paige has her heart set on Paisley staying here all the time but it’s quite a commute from Italy, don’t you think?”
Choosing to assume his question was rhetorical, I say, “Nice place.”
"Only the best for my girl.” His voice tightens with emotion. "Speaking of Katie, are you ready to see what she's up to?"
"I thought she went to bed,” I say, remembering her yawn.
“Yeah, that’s what she wants us to think. But I’ll show you where she really is.” He shoots a look over his shoulder at me as he backs out of the driveway. “Have you heard of the tunnel?”
An underground escape route that runs from the basement of one of the guest cabins to outside the Hamlet’s walls. “Yeah. I thought you guys had that thing blocked off.”
“That’s what we say, but it’s not.” He gives me a conspiratorial glance. “I left it open.”
“Really.” I don’t oversee anything security-related in the Hamlet.
“They think we don’t know about it, but I remember what it felt like to be a teen growing up inside the walls of the Village. Occasionally, my dad’s men would help me sneak out into the city to keep my sanity.” He gives a nostalgic laugh. “Of course, the security is a little better nowadays. Anyway, occasionally, Katie and the other teens need an escape. We trail them from a distance, but Katie…”
“She’s been getting up to something?”
Bronson stares out the window for a moment before speaking. “Perhaps I’ve been too lax. Maybe I’ve spoiled her. It could have been a mistake to let her run free. The girl needs discipline.” He reaches over as he drives, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Do you understand?”
I’m starting to think my last mission was given to me as a test.
If you can succeed at this, you can surely protect my daughter.
“I understand,” I say. “Where is she now?”
He gives me a pained look. The worry of a father for his daughter—one I hope to never know.
“Let me show you.”
eight
