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The air in the office is heavy with silence for a few minutes until my father comes back from the bathroom and takes a few aspirin, sitting back in his chair. “And to leave us a message. That’s why none of our men were killed.” He adds to Marco’s statement from before he left the room.
“What message?” Now I’m getting pissed off with these two men speaking in riddles.
“The he can get to us any time he fucking pleases!” My father’s eyes meet mine.
“And he now has Isabella!” Marco closes his eyes and his jaw clenches.
“Is that why he took Isabella? Is she a hostage, or did he take her for another reason?“ My stomach knots. I’ll fucking rip his head off if he lays a hand on her.
“Have you checked the security feeds?” Marco ignores my questions and turns to James.
I’m about to lay into him when James nods, picks up the remote, and clicks on the security monitors lining the wall in front of Marco’s desk. He goes back three hours, but nothing shows on it, as the feed just stays the same. There’s not even any sign there was a party at the house.
“Fuck, they looped the feed,” James hisses, further forwarding. “It’s like an average day, and there’s not even any trace of the party.” He fast-forwards the feed.
“Stop!” Moving toward the monitor, I turn to James. “Click on Marco’s office and run to two hours ago.”
The surveillance starts when Isabella enters Marco’s office. My heart and cock jolt when I see her. Jesus, the woman has me possessed. Just seeing her on a monitor sets me off. I force myself to concentrate on what’s happening around us.
I watch as one of Marco’s staff members walks into the office. He hands Isabella a juice and… “Stop!” I walk closer to the screen, turning to James “Do you have any other angle. One that shows this guy’s face and Isabella’s?”
“Why?” Marco asks, moving closer to me and trying to see what I do.
James switches the feed to a different angle and rewinds it.
“There!” My jaw clenches. Son of a bitch. “The look he gives Isabella. He gives a slight nod before she takes the drink.” Another image of earlier. The same guy gave Isabella a glass of champagne. “Fuck!” I spit and run a hand through my hair, then turn to James. “Who is he?”
“Davey Conti. He’s Genevra’s adopted son.” James frowns. “Why?”
“I think we’ve been drinking whatever the shit Isabella gave us the whole day.” They look at me with disbelief as I tell them of my suspicions. “I remember Davey giving Isabella her drinks. I don’t think I actually saw her take one from anyone else.”
“No way,” Marco refuses to believe it. “Isabella wouldn’t.” He frowns at the monitor. “Although Davey and Isabella have always been good friends.” He shakes his. “No they wouldn’t.”
“Really?” Turning to James, I indicate that he should continue showing the security feed. “Right before Isabella asked me to pour more of the vodka she gave you, I saw something in her eyes.” My head pushes slightly forward, watching. “There.”
James freezes it at the perfect moment. “Oh shit. She looks almost…”
“Gleeful?” I turn to James.
“Bitch!” My father snarls.
“That’s my wife you’re speaking about,“ I remind my father warningly.
“I don’t care,” he retorts. “Isabella stood there watching us drink the drugged vodka with a look of glee in her traitorous eyes.”
“A silent declaration of how she outsmarted us, and we never saw it coming.” James breathes out and gives a soft laugh with a glint of pride that disappears as fast as it appears.
I make a mental note to keep an eye on James. Something’s off with him. He wasn’t as affected as we were by the drug. Before I can think more about it, Marco’s voice grabs my attention.
“I see satisfaction, vindication, and defiance,” Marco says. “Shit! And I never saw it coming.”
“She learned from the best,” James says, and I swear I see him hide a grin as he turns away.
There’s definitely something there. I must ask Urie to keep an eye on James. He might just know where that green-eyed fuckhead took Isabella or even lead us to him. There must’ve been someone on Marco’s payroll who helped these bastards get into his fortress.
The surveillance feed catches my attention once again. We watch the whole scene unfold. My jaw clenches when I see Isabella grab the bottle of vodka, wave, and declare our divorce. She admits to disabling the surveillance, alarm, and our men. Isabella’s about to leave when she runs into two large men dressed like a SWAT team, all in black.
I suck in my breath when I see the green-eyed giant who makes sure he stays in focus of the cameras at all times, showing he knows precisely where they are.
