father. The ones who left when Diego and Angel took over.
“How did you get these?”
“Drone. You recognize them?”
“Some.”
“Keep going.”
I do, my heartbeat picking up because I’m sure things are about to get worse. And they do. Fast.
It’s when I see the small cabin high in the mountains that my heart sinks. It’s where my father held his most important meetings. Complete privacy. I don’t want to know what else he did up there, but I do know if you were in real trouble with him, that’s where you went. Some never came back. The ones who did were in bad shape.
But now I see it’s one of my cousins, well, the husband of a cousin. One who I hadn’t seen since the murders of my parents. I called him Féfé, a nickname because I couldn’t say his name, Felix, when I was little. Noah couldn’t either and I remember teaching him Féfé even though Felix hated it. He married my uncle Jacob’s daughter.
And beside him stands Marcus Rinaldi. It’s the only reason I notice Felix at all. He’s an utterly unremarkable man.
I look up at Cristiano. “When were these taken?”
“Just a few days ago.”
“I don’t understand. Marcus is in Mexico?”
“Where is that cabin?”
“I’m not sure exactly. On De La Cruz land for sure. It’s where my father held secret meetings.” I leave out the rest.
“And that’s Felix Pérez. Jacob’s son-in-law.”
I nod to confirm.
“Was he aligned with your brothers?”
“I don’t know. I never saw him, but I can’t be sure. But these men,” I say, pointing to a few. “They walked away after the killings. They didn’t trust my brothers. What’s going on, Cristiano?”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.” He checks his watch, stands up. “Would you like to see Noah?”
“Really?” I ask, hopeful.
He nods.
“Yes, please.”
“Alec will take you down.”
“Can he come up? Maybe we can just walk outside for a little bit?”
“Not now.”
“Just for as long as you say, I promise—”
“I said not now. We’ll discuss it later. I have an idea.”
“What idea?”
“Later. If you want to see him, now is your opportunity.”
I stand, not wanting to blow it.
His eyes skim over me. “It’s my mother’s dress. Or so Lenore tells me. I don’t remember it.” He says that last part without meeting my eyes.
I look down, straighten the skirt of the dress. “Oh.”
“I thought I’d remember if I saw it on you.”
“I’ll take her down before I go,” Dante says, standing. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Where are you going?” Cristiano asks him.
“I need to get some things for tonight.”
“You’d better show up.”
“I will.” Dante turns to me, the easy smile when he was talking to Cristiano disappearing. “Let’s go,” he says, opening the door.
I go because I want to see Noah.
Once the study door closes, Dante takes hold of my arm. He’s not rough but it’s unnecessary. He stops me, makes me turn to him.
“You think you’ve got some hold on him?”
“What?”
“You’re a fuck toy to him. That’s all. Don’t get any fucking ideas.”
I tug my arm, but he doesn’t let go.
“I don’t like you. And I don’t trust you,” he says as if I didn’t already know.
“Feeling’s mutual.”
A flash of irritation darkens his eyes. “I’ve got my eye on you, Scarlett De La Cruz. And I’ll do whatever I need to do to protect my brother, so watch your step.”
Before I can even respond, he starts to walk us toward the hallway that will lead down to the cells. But just before we get there, I hear a familiar voice.
One that makes my skin crawl.
We both stop and turn. It’s my uncle. He’s here, in Cristiano’s house. He turns to look at us, first at Dante, whose hand tightens on my arm like he’s making a fist, then me. He’s talking to a soldier.
He’s obviously caught off guard when he sees me, but he recovers quickly. His eyes skim over me as do the soldier’s, the latter without emotion. My heart is beating so hard against my chest all I hear is rage. Blood pumping through my veins. Pounding against my ears.
“Dante,” my uncle says by way of greeting. He smiles.
I look to Dante whose expression is dark. Murderous even. Well, I guess we have one thing in common.
I take a step toward him, but Dante’s hand tightens.
“Let’s go,” he says.
I touch the metal nail file I found in the bathroom that I strapped around my thigh. A knife would be better, but this is sharp and sturdy. It’ll do the job.
But Dante tugs, hand bruising now.
The man with