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“No.”
“Neither have I. I’ll have to ask him why he didn’t call to check up. He should be meeting us at Prescott Browne’s mansion.”
“Don’t do that.”
My brother and I are still figuring out our relationship. That doesn’t mean we aren’t close, but he was gone for nine years. We still aren’t entirely sure how we fit together.
“We’ll talk later. Do you think you can make the meeting on time? I’ll text you the address. It isn’t far from your place.”
“Then I should be able to make it with plenty of time to spare.”
Fuck. I don’t want to leave Sophia, but I can’t shirk my responsibilities. Especially when they are directly related to her.
“Make sure you aren’t followed,” Valentina adds.
“I always do.”
“See you in a bit.”
“Not if I see you first.”
With that little bit of sibling banter out of the way, I hang up and turn to head back to the kitchen.
I still need to shower and get dressed. I’m a mess right now, and it’s not going to bode well for us if I show up to the state senator’s house looking like a demon who just fucked his way out of hell.
But what to do with Sophia while I’m gone?
Leaving her here alone shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Sure, Maeve has probably already left. But I have two guards stationed by the front door at all times and a trip wire on all of the windows.
I’ll leave through the underground so no one can trace me back to this place. She should be safe here while I’m out.
… But I know that’s not what I should be worried about.
Sure, her safety is important, but it’s her presence that really matters. She can’t escape… but I also don’t want to lock her back in her room, even though I know I should.
All it would take is her wandering too close to an open window, and the wrong person could see her from the street below. Then, the Greeks would know where she was, and I wouldn’t be around to do anything about it.
Fucking hell. I’m going to have to lock her back up in that room. She’ll hate me for it—well, she’ll hate me even more for it…
A fist of guilt starts to tighten around my heart.
Then, suddenly, I have an idea.
It makes returning to the kitchen much easier.
“The bacon’s not bad,” Sophia says, her mouth half full as she chomps away on a huge slice. Well, at least, it’s huge compared to her. How the hell did I fit my cock in that?
“Bacon’s hard to fuck up.”
“I was sure you’d find a way.”
I could almost smile. Her fire is back. And even as she limps over to the sink for some water, clearly sore as hell, there’s a glow to her golden olive-skin that makes me stop in place.
“I have to go,” I tell her, peeling the band aid off quickly.
Sophia manages to swallow some water before she realizes what that means.
“… Does that mean…”
