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It crossed my mind, although my most pressing concern is still privacy to grieve, but since you brought up security, let’s discuss it.
“I want a female guard assigned to my team. Not someone who’s a chaperone, but a real guard. I need a security team that’s sensible and willing to help me figure out how I can go about living my life without jeopardizing my safety—in any situation.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” The response is glib and dismissive, and I won’t let it slide.
“No, Dad. I need more than a hope and a prayer. I don’t want to get to London and find out that we’re exactly where we were when I left.” After just a short time with Giana, Sabio, and Carlos, I can’t go back to the way things were.
“I get it,” he grumbles.
Although I’m not entirely convinced he does.
But this is where it gets particularly thorny. I draw a breath before I drop it on him. “My guards are not to report every little thing to you. I’m twenty-three years old. I’m entitled to some privacy.”
“Is there anything else you want? My testicles, perhaps?” He’s annoyed and frustrated.
Normally I manage my father by going in from the edges, but today I marched right down the middle. He’s unhappy, but I’m not backing down.
“Those are my requirements. The alternative is that I come home and bring the guards I’ve been working with here.” Which I should do, because they’re exactly the kind of people I want on my team, but that would mean they would have to leave their home and their families. I won’t do that to them.
“You’re a tough negotiator. But I have one condition of my own.”
Of course you do.
“What’s that?”
“You need to come home before you go back to your flat.”
He agreed to everything I asked—at least I think he did. There’s always a risk he won’t let me leave without a war, but if he’s going to trust me, I’ll have to trust him too.
“I’ll agree to that.”
“When would you like to leave Porto?”
It’s not lost on me that he didn’t tell me when he’d be sending the plane, but he asked for my preference. Maybe we can actually make this work.
“I’d like to leave as soon as possible, although nothing’s chasing me out of here. There’s no real rush.” I don’t want him to think I’m in any danger—he’d skin Rafael.
“I’ll make a phone call and let you know the timing. Unless it’s an emergency, it could be after midnight before I can get a plane there. You up for a late-night flight?”
It’s perfect. I’ll be gone before he gets back. “No emergency. I’ll sleep on the plane. Thank you. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Sweetheart?” he calls before I hang up.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted. I know you’ve had your eye on him for years.”
“Thanks.” I don’t say more, because there’s a lump in my throat the size of a grapefruit.
I’m sorry too.
52
RAFAEL
Tamar and I arrive at Bancroft’s office long before the place opens for business. He didn’t want to take an early meeting with me, but I insisted. If that asshole can meet Valentina for breakfast, he can meet me.
“You’ll wait outside his office,” I instruct Tamar on the elevator up.
