Page 15 of Flowers and Moonlight
“Mr. Durante,” I tried to keep the threatening edge out of my voice, “can we please step inside? We have a few questions.”
He glanced down at the mask again before his eyes shifted to the side and he stepped back into his home while holding the door open for us. He didn’t let us in farther than the foyer, but I didn’t care where we were for the conversation. The way he crossed his arms across his chest was a clear indicator he was trying to protect himself and I knew we might not get theanswers we were seeking.
“You recognize this mask,” I didn’t pose it as a question because it wasn’t; he couldn’t hide his initial reaction to it.
“I do.” He nodded, his face shuttered and neutral. “Once my designs are out of my hands, I don’t know where the masks go.” He shrugged casually. “I only create them.”
Zeno’s voice was cold, I’m sure reading the same thing in the situation I was, “Who is the owner of this mask?”
“I don’t divulge who my clients are.” He narrowed his eyes at us. “It’s not a good business practice, I’m sure you can understand.”
My gut clenched because without saying it, he was telling us he knew us or, at least, our reputation and employer. I sighed, the sound labored and full of frustration. “This is personal, Mr. Durante. It has nothing to do with business. We need to find the woman who was wearing this mask last night.”
His eyes narrowed and his back straightened. The look in his eyes told me he wasn’t going to give up the information, no matter what we said. Part of me could respect it because, in essence, he was also protecting our woman. The rest of me hated it, but I wasn’t willing to use violence to get the answers.
Not yet at least, not until we heard from Hack to see if we could get the information we needed in a different way.
“How would I know who wore the mask last night? It could have been the person I made it for, or it could have been anyone,” there was a challenge in his voice, but my instincts were screaming that he knew exactly who was wearing the mask at the Guidice Ball.
“Look,” I took a deep breath to try and keep my shit together, “if you do know who was wearing the mask, we just want to find her because she’s ours.”
I wanted to tell him we spent the night together and she fell apart in our arms so damn beautifully, like a ray of moonlight, but I held back. It wasn’t for anyone but us to know and I wasn’t going to spread it around. I just needed to have a little faith that we could get the information a different way.
The look of surprise on Donovan’s face was something he couldn’t mask. He swallowed hard, his eyes assessing us as if looking for our deepest and darkest secrets. I wasn’t sure what he would find.
He ushered us back to his front door, but before he closed it, he left us with, “If I do know, then I’ll pass the message on that you’re looking for her.”
It was the only consolation we had for the last two days, but it was getting harder to hold onto that. At least until Hack called us today with information that sent us into a fucking tailspin. I was in Dante’s office talking with him about not liking how close Bernard Moreau and Juan Martinez were at the ball when I got the call.
I was only halfway listening to him, and I practically jumped on my phone when it rang. Dante arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I barely spared him a glance when I answered the phone and barked, “Tell me you have something.”
Hack’s answering chuckle was full of amusement, but I was so close to fucking breaking I was liable to figure out a way to reach through the phone and choke him until he couldn’t chuckle like that again. He must have taken my silence for the threat it was because he sobered up quickly.
“I have news and you’ll probably want to sit down for it,” his voice was back to all business.
I stood up without looking at Dante and walked out into the hallway where I found Zeno standing guard. When I nodded at him, we slipped into the library, thankful as fuck Jasmine wasn’t curled up there. It wouldn’t have surprised me if she had been.
I hit the icon on my phone and informed Hack, “You’re on speaker and Zeno is with me.”
He took a deep breath and I swear we both took one with him. “The woman you had me tracking down is named Posy Moreau.” I staggered back a little bit and locked gazes with Zeno whose eyes held the same level of surprise mine did—a fuck ton.
“What the fuck do you mean that was Posy Moreau? Bernard doesn’t have a second daughter, only that cunt of a woman Samantha,” I seethed.
“It seems he does,” Hack’s voice held a little bit of anger, probably because I was accusing him of not doing his job properly and I knew from experience how seriously he took his jobs. I shook my head, but before I could argue with him, he kept going. “Posy is his biological daughter from his first marriage. Her mother is deceased and that is when Bernard married Clarissa and adopted Samantha.”
My eyes slid closed as I tried to process the information. I didn’t give a flying fuck that Posy was Bernard’s daughter. It didn’t change anything about the connection we had or the need to find her, in fact it only made my gut churn with dread.
Bernard is not a man to be trusted with anything, especially not the woman who is our future.
The conversation I was having minutes earlier with Dante about how close Bernard and Martinez looked at the ball flew through my mind, but that was business and I couldn’t bring it up. Not yet at least, and not with Hack on the phone.
Zeno’s voice held the same strain I was feeling, “Do you have an address? Is she living at Bernard’s house or is she living on her own?”
“The only residence I can find is the Moreau home. I’m sure you know where to find it.”
“We do,” Zeno’s voice held danger and violence within it.
“Thank you. I’ll transfer you your fee,” I let Hack know before hanging up.
