Without his little fortress to run to, Santo would have to rely on others, and seeing who offered him help would give me an idea of what he had planned and how he would manage to put that plan into action.
For the moment at least, there didn’t appear to be much to worry about.
I’d parked at a reasonable distance and watched, saw the steady stream of visitors that came to see Santo. I’d see who visited him today and then see who still supported him after tomorrow. Then I’d know who had to be eliminated.
I watched for hours, half my mind watching, the other half with Daniela. I knew without a doubt that I had never met anyone like her, and she was taking me off guard. She was refined, polished in a way I would never be, but I’d also started to recognize something deeper. I saw the temper she fought to keep under control. I saw the way her mind worked, how, unless she was in a fit of some of that rage, she was careful, calculating her actions before she took them.
I respected that, tried to do the same myself, though I’d never manage the level of sophistication Daniela pulled off. I wondered how she’d come to that. Certainly not from Santo, but I wanted to find out.
Wariness was necessary here. I needed to keep my guard up because as polished as Daniela was, I still didn’t know what lay underneath. Maybe she was as ruthless as her father, as ruthless as me, and maybe she was simply waiting to bury the knife in my back when she had the chance. My stomach clenched at the thought, and I hated that feeling.
I had no right expecting anything and certainly didn’t trust her, but the idea of her actively working against me didn’t sit well. It was what I would do, but I couldn’t suppress the wish that things would turn out different with her. The glimpses of her I’d seen so far intrigued me, and it had been a very long time since anything that wasn’t business had done that. For some reason, I found her utterly fascinating, and I couldn’t help but hope I’d get to learn more about her, the real her I hadn’t even begun to know.
Probably wishful thinking on my part. Definitely wishful thinking on my part. Beyond a passing physical attraction, Daniela wanted no part of this, no part of me, and I needed to keep that in mind, no matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise.
That little reminder made it possible for me to refocus, and I watched Santo’s visitors come and go. The only thing notable about them was who wasn’t among them.
During the course of the long day, Michael did not make an appearance. Whether that was because he was getting used to the change in leadership or for other, ulterior purposes remained to be seen. I’d figure it out soon enough.
As the sun dipped low, I finally left, trying to ignore the excitement at seeing her again.
Had it ever been this way for me? Sure, I’d had fun, fucked my fair share of beautiful women, but I’d never had this feeling before, pure excitement at the prospect of seeing someone. But I was excited and only got increasingly so as I got closer to Santo’s house.
I nodded at the two men stationed outside and then drove up, making sure that no outward sign of my desire to see her showed, but feeling it nonetheless. When I entered the house, I instantly knew she wasn’t there.
I bit back the immediate feeling of loss, deciding I should confirm that she wasn’t, though in my gut I knew she was gone. A quick search of the house revealed that what I had suspected was true.
Daniela was gone.
* * *
Daniela
I’d had to leave.
There’d been no other choice.
The entire day, one that had been longer and more grueling than I’d anticipated left me wrung out, and leaving the house had been the one way I knew I could avoid facing him, worse, facing my desire for him.
There had been visits today, mothers and wives dropping by to congratulate me on my marriage and gather gossip for the others. No surprise there, and I’d been expecting it. These visits were the types of things I’d been groomed for my entire life, and none of them were of any note.
But Sergei… Sergei had haunted my thoughts, haunted my every moment, and by the end of the day, I’d known I was powerless to deny my attraction to him, and that powerlessness scared me.
I tried to remind myself of what my role was, remind myself that he was the enemy, but it was a failing effort. Because with every reminder came a counter that brought with it a memory of his smile, the way I’d felt when he’d been so close to me. The feeling of his lips on mine.
I was exhausted by the effort, and in a spur-of-the-moment decision, I had retreated. I’d worried that someone would stop me, but none of the guards, Sergei’s men and not my father’s, said anything. I’d considered a hotel, but the lure of my house was too strong, which was how I found myself there.