Packing Heat(38)

I was screwed. There was no other way to look at it. I was screwed and I was going to be destroyed.

I stopped at the first door I found and swiped my card. The light turned green and I threw the door open.

My breath was nearly taken from my chest as I stepped inside the room.

It was humid and large. Plants surrounded me on all sides. It was a green room, or something like a green room. Actually, it was more like one of those jungle exhibits at the zoo, with real plants and towering flowers clustering close to the narrow path. For a second, I thought I had walked outside, but I could see the glass ceiling up above me.

I stepped into the room, my problems forgotten. I slowly walked inside, following along the path.

It was strangely quiet. When I had stepped inside, I’d expected to hear what you normally heard in a forested area: birds, small animals moving in the underbrush, the wind through the branches. But it was silent, like an empty room. I had to keep reminding myself that I was actually inside.

It was beautiful. It must have taken serious work to keep it as gorgeous as it was. I had no clue what its purpose was or why it was in the middle of a mafia mansion, but I was thankful for it. I felt like I was truly alone, and for a second I could catch my breath.

I continued along the path until it came to a small clearing in the plants. There was a bench to my right and a statue standing at one end of the clearing. I felt drawn toward that statue, and I walked over to it.

The woman was beautiful. Long hair, thick lips, a gorgeous face. Whoever had made the sculpture made her look almost life-like. Her clothes seemed so real that I reached out and touched them.

“That’s my mother, you know.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned around and stared at a younger version of the statue. She had long, dark hair and intense, dark eyes. She was beautiful.

“I’m sorry?” I said stupidly.

The girl nodded at the statue. Her face was completely calm. “That’s my mother, Condita.”

“Oh,” I said, glancing at the statue. “She was beautiful.”

“She was,” the girl agreed. I guessed she was around my age.

“I’m Cassidy,” I said.

“I know.”

“Uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Louisa Barone. Still nice?”

I gaped at her for a second. This was the daughter of Arturo Barone. She was incredibly famous. I’d heard tons of rumors about her, mostly about how insane she was and how she never left her rooms. She seemed pretty normal to me, although a little weird, and she was definitely not in her room.

“It’s good to meet you, Louisa,” I said finally.

“This room is a shrine to her.” Louisa walked over to the statue and put her hand on her mother’s foot. “My father had it built when my mother died.”

“That’s really beautiful.”

“Not really. My father is a fucking asshole.”

I blinked. “Oh, uh, sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t make him that way. Plus, he knows he’s an asshole; he just doesn’t care.” Louisa cocked her head at me. “Question is, what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I was just wandering around. Is this room off limits?”

“Normally,” Louisa said. “But I cheated a little bit. I gave your key card full, unrestricted access to the mansion.”

That surprised me. I blinked, not really sure what to say. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I felt like it,” Louisa said. “I was bored and I heard you were coming.”

“So you just gave me access?”

“Sure. Thought it might be fun having a journalist wandering the halls of the mafia’s compound.” She gave me an eerie smile.

“Uh, I guess so. Wouldn’t your dad be pissed?”

“My dad is an asshole.” She took her hand off her mother’s foot. “And he doesn’t command me. Nobody does.”

“That must be nice.”

“It is nice.” She stepped toward me. I took a step back unconsciously. “I can give you that freedom too, Cassidy. Do you want to be free?”

“Maybe,” I said. “Everyone wants to be free.”

“I can give that to you. I have that power.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

I was beginning to feel incredibly uncomfortable. Louisa’s eyes were burning into mine with an intensity that bordered on the insane. I had the feeling that I should run away, but I didn’t know why. She wasn’t threatening me at all, but she was acting erratically. She made me feel uneasy.

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”