We watch her walk away, Bruno with one eyebrow raised.
“Go ahead,” Amadeo tells him, and we watch them walk out the door.
I turn to him when we’re alone. “What did you agree with her, brother?”
His jaw tightens. “That I’d set her free once it was over.”
We look at each other for a long, long minute. Thing is, there was a time I would have said hell no to that. I would have rather locked her away in a cell somewhere than let her go to live a life. To have a life at all.
Now, I still say hell no. But for a different reason.
“She’s not going anywhere,” I say.
“No. She’s not.”
I nod, glad we’re in agreement. “Let’s go get this over with.”
17
AMADEO
She neither speaks nor looks at my brother or me throughout the hour-and-a-half meeting with Brady as she signs where he tells her to sign and nods along as he explains things she isn’t even listening to. She wants to be finished and leave. It may be best for her anyway. I need her out of New York City and out of reach of her brother, so I’ll give her half of what she wants. She’ll go to Italy to be with her sister. But she won’t be leaving the Ravello property.
Once we’re finished, Brady hands her a folder. “Details of what I told you are inside as well as specifics about your allowance,” he says with a glance at me. He doesn’t like that I have control of her finances. I get it. He knew her father and his loyalty will be with Vittoria. But this business he doesn’t know about, and I don’t much give a fuck what he thinks of it or me.
“My allowance,” she says bitterly, sending a scathing look my way, the first in all the time we’ve been in this office.
“Access codes and everything you need are in your folder. Read it, Vittoria. Understand the details and your rights.”
“I’ll have access to the money right away? My allowance.”
“Right away.” He gestures to the folder.
“Can he stop paying it?” she asks him.
“I won’t,” I answer before Brady can open his mouth.
I watch her jaw tighten, but she nods, then stuffs the envelope into a large tote she’d brought with her. I turn to Brady. “Work on all site stops today. You put the word out yet?”
“What?” Vittoria asks.
“Construction is paused until further notice,” I tell her.
She studies me, but I turn to Brady and raise my eyebrows, waiting for his response.
“There are quite a few sites, Mr. Caballero. It will take time.”
“But you’ve got it under control?”
“Yes, sir,” he says, clearly not pleased. I could give a fuck.
“Good.” I turn to Vittoria. “Bruno will take you to the airport,” I take the keys to the penthouse and stand.
She recognizes the keys. “I want to go home first. To the penthouse.”
“Why?”
“I want to get a few things for Emma and myself. And see it again. Maybe for the last time.”
“That’s dramatic,” Bastian mutters from where he’s leaning against the wall.
She doesn’t acknowledge his comment. I look at Bruno. “Will that work?” We have a time slot at the airport. If we miss it, it will delay us for a few hours.
He checks his watch. “Should. We’ve got an hour.”
“Okay.”
Brady clears his throat. “A word, Mr. Caballero.”
“Right now? We’re a little pressed for time.”
“It won’t take long.”
“Fine. We’ll meet you at the penthouse,” I tell Bruno, tossing him the keys. He nods and takes Vittoria out.
Once they’re gone, Brady dismisses the assistant who is taking notes and waits until the door is closed to turn his gaze to me. He’s an intelligent man. And from the way he’s talked to Vittoria, I think he is concerned for her welfare. Still, there’s something about him I don’t like. But that’s probably my untrusting nature. Most people can’t be trusted. I know this.
I make a point of checking my watch.
“I want to tell you something that may be overstepping the parameters of my role, but given what I know and how things stand, I feel it is my duty to Ms. Russo.” He shakes his head. “Mrs. Caballero.”
“Go on, Mr. Brady,” I say.
He walks to the window, and I’m not sure he’s going to continue until he turns back around and returns to his desk.
“Mr. Russo loved that girl. She was a bright light in a sometimes dreary life.”
“Perhaps it was dreary for the choices he made, Mr. Brady. I thought I was here to sign papers, but if you’re going to waste my time singing that man’s praises…” I start, standing. I’m not going to sit here and listen to him glorify Geno Russo as if he were some fucking saint.
“She’s gone through hell. You should know that.”
Now I’m curious. “Go on.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t divulge details, but I hope to appeal to your humanity.”
“Now you insult me.”
“This isn’t a game. I don’t like you. I don’t like what you’ve managed to do.”
“I don’t care.”
“Just don’t hurt her. She doesn’t deserve it.” He says it with such an authentic tone, with such a look in his eyes that it catches me off guard, and I find I don’t have a comeback.
“She’ll be fine. It’s not her I intend to punish.”
“Good. Because if something were to happen to her, if she were hurt or worse, I would go to the authorities.”
I grin. “How lucky the Russos are to have such a devoted lawyer working for them. Happen to know where Lucien Russo is?”
“No,” he answers too quickly. Getting up, he walks to the printer set behind his desk and picks up the sheet lying there. He sets it on his desk and signs it, then hands it to me. “My resignation. I won’t work with criminals.”
I look at it and snort. “Who do you think you’ve been working with?”
“I’ve already named my temporary replacement until you find someone more suitable for your needs. I won’t wish you luck, Mr. Caballero.” With that, he buttons his jacket, and walks out of the office.
“Asshole,” Bastian says.
Irritated, I toss the letter aside and take out my phone. I send a text to Dominic’s man, the one in charge of the soldiers he’s put at our disposal while we’re here. He’s in the lobby and responds immediately when I tell him to have someone follow Brady.
“What was that?” Bastian asks when I tuck the phone away.
“I put a tail on him. I don’t trust him. Let’s go. We have shit to do.”
He nods. We head out to the elevators and out of the building to our SUV and drive together to the penthouse, which is only about a fifteen-minute ride. Lucien Russo lived here up until just a few days ago. The doorman, who has been alerted to our arrival, shows us to the elevator. Bastian and I ride to the top.
The building is beautiful, as I’d expect, and when the doors open onto the penthouse, I’m not surprised at its opulence. The large space boasts floor-to-ceiling windows with incredible views over the city. With an open floor plan, the kitchen, dining, and living rooms are one big open space and off three separate corridors are what I assume are bedrooms. Bruno is sitting on the extra-long chesterfield. He stands when we enter.