“A little over two hours ago,” I confirm, and his shoulders loosen with relief.
“Please tell me how she is. Is she hurt?”
Of course, I’m not going to tell him that I’ve chained his little girl to my bedroom wall.
“She’s okay. My men are watching over her.”
“Thank you. Please, come in.”
He looks grateful but wary, very wary as he should. The ‘they’ he referred to is either Massimo or Aiden, so he knows what to expect from me.
He steps aside for me to come in. I do, and he leads me into the living room. We sit opposite each other on the leather sofas, and I look over the less is more design. It fits in with what I expect from an artist and photographer. But the tension lingering in the air screws with the ambiance the place is supposed to have.
Summer has his eyes, but that’s as far as the resemblance goes. In fact, if I saw the two of them, I would never guess they were father and daughter.
Maybe it’s because he looks more like a man in his eighties, not someone in their late fifties.
I’m like a fucking shark. Aside from the worry in his eyes, there’s something else I detect in his demeanor that looks like weakness. He’s doing his best, though, to stave it off.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, getting the condolence out of the way before I launch into telling him my expectations.
“Thanks. I foolishly asked to see the video and watched it.” His voice shakes. “I just wanted to know what happened. I wanted to see if I was right. They’re twins but they could never fool me, so I knew it wasn’t Summer when the Monaco police contacted me and sent me pictures. The girls also have matching tattoos on their wrists, but Scarlett’s is on her left. I didn’t need any more confirmation than that. The police did nothing.”
Probably because nearly the whole force in Monaco is being funded by Micah. Dominic filled in a few other details before I left D’Agostinos Inc.
“I’ll be handling things from here.”
“What does that mean? Does that mean you are going to catch the people who did this to my daughter?” For a brief moment, he allows his rage to show. “Cause I have this feeling I’m about to sell my soul to the devil.”
“That’s an interesting thing to say, Mr. Reeves, considering I just found your daughter.”
“You found her, but you didn’t bring her to me.”
“No, I did not. I’m not finished with her yet.” I give him a crude smile, and a flicker of trepidation washes over his face.
“You’re from the mafia, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I’m not going to disrespect him with a bullshit answer.
“So, I might have thrown my girl from the frying pan straight into the mouth of Hell.”
I can’t refute that. Summer Reeves has been passed from the lair of one beast to another. I just don’t want her dead.
“How do I know I haven’t done the wrong thing?”
“The simple answer is you don’t,” I reply in a flat, emotionless tone. I think he wanted me to assure him that he was doing the right thing. “But I can tell you this; your daughter got herself in trouble with some seriously dangerous motherfuckers who want her dead. They already killed her sister, and the only thing keeping her alive right now is their mistake. Don’t believe they won’t figure it out eventually. When they do, they will kill Summer. So, what you need to ask yourself is this; go with the devil you’re getting to know who needs your daughter alive, or cause trouble and make things worse.”
“You have an ulterior motive in this,” he states.
“I have a personal stake in this, Mr. Reeves. Your daughter has information I need to find the man who murdered her sister. I’ve been after that man for a long time. He has wronged me in more ways than one. Believe me when I say my mission is to end him. So, I think we have the same goals in mind. Am I right?”
He stares at me a long time before he nods. “Yes.”
“Good, then it looks like we’re on the same page.”
“What will happen now?”
“She will stay with me, and I will return her to you when it’s over. That’s providing you don’t fuck with me and try to contact the police.”