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“She did, but I wanted to speak with you alone. If your mother were here, she would ease the strain, filling in the icy silences with sweet chatter. When lunch was over, you and I would still be at an impasse.”
He’s not wrong. Anytime there’s tension between my father and me, she intervenes, redirecting the negative energy instead of forcing us to hash out our differences.
“Where are we going?” I’m confident in his promise to my mother, but his behavior of late has been off, and I can’t help but be a bit wary still.
“To a small restaurant nearby.”
I’m sure he’s arranged for it to be empty, or maybe for a private room.
The car pulls into a port lodge not far from Huntsman Lodge. Three SUVs pull in behind us—security, mine and his. The army of guards doesn’t entirely surprise me, although two vehicles with armed guards is unusual. He’s normally more relaxed in Porto.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, while we wait for the guards to check the premises. “No one to argue politics with. My debate skills are getting rusty.”
While we rarely agree, political debate has always been our thing. “I miss it too. Maybe we can argue on the way back to Valentina’s. I would hate for you to get rusty.” I feel the edge of his mouth curl against my head.
As we sit here, I remember how much I love my dad. I would do almost anything to rewind the clock a year or two. He was difficult then, too, but it was the kind of difficult that I could live with. I sigh.
A guard opens the car door while I’m still trying to figure out how to get back to something less toxic with him. Maybe an hour or two over lunch will be just what we need.
“All good inside,” the guard says to my father.
I hope he’s right.
45
ALEXIS
We’re settled around a small table in a private room that overlooks the Douro River, with wine and olives, and tasty croquettes, courtesy of the chef.
“I’m sorry I missed that meeting between you and Rafael. It must have been interesting,” I say, popping an olive into my mouth. Must have been quite the pissing match. I keep that part to myself.
“He’s not a boy. That’s for sure. Almost ready to take over from Antonio. Even with the arrogant veneer, I could sense the power behind him.” He pauses. “That’s largely why I’m here.”
I gaze at his face while he struggles to configure words into sentences. His hair is beginning to gray around the temples, but that fuck-with-me-and-you-die vibe doesn’t show any signs of age. I felt it as soon as we left the car to enter the restaurant.
“Did he blackmail you or threaten you in any way to get you to agree to his little plan?”
Verbalizing emotion, aside from anger, is not something my father does particularly well. But somewhere in there is an I love you, and I would never allow you to be party to any arrangement with a man that didn’t have your full consent. It’s hard to find, unless you know what to look for.
I shake my head. “No. He got me to agree by making promises that I could live with.”
“What kind of promises?” he asks, not bothering to hide his displeasure.
“The kind that will allow me the freedom to live my life and still be safe.”
His hands curl into tight fists on the white tablecloth. “It’s tough to accomplish that. Impossible. And I want to forbid it.”
I want to forbid it, not I forbid it. It’s small, but significant.
“But you won’t,” I say softly. “And I thank you for that.”
He doesn’t respond for what seems like forever, but I watch his expression tighten, not with anger, but with sorrow. “I won’t lose you, Lexie.” His voice is gruff with uncharacteristic emotion, and every word lands in my soul.
The threats he worries about are real. I can’t quarrel with that part. I need to make Rafael’s plan work, not just for me but for my father too.
“Dad.” I reach over and squeeze his fingers.
“I’ve given Huntsman more control over your safety than I’ve ever given anyone else. Anyone.”
