Page 34 of Victorious Vice

“You can’t,” he says flatly.

“I know. That’s the point.”

He sighs. “Raven?—”

I throw my hand in his face. “Don’t even say it. Don’t even say that if I had stayed away from Vinnie Gallo, none of this would be happening.”

“I wasn’t going to say that. Christ.” He sits down on the sofa, running his hands through his hair. “You think I want to keep you from someone you love? None of us wants to do that. The thought of not being able to be with Savannah…” He closes his eyes, wincing slightly. “It hurts just to think about.”

“You said Savannah and Vinnie stayed here.”

“They did. I was with Savannah. She had to be hidden from the McAllisters. That’s how I ended up violating my parole. I had to go to that hearing.”

“Yeah. I know. And I understand why you did it.”

“I know you do. I’m so sorry you have to be separated from someone you love.”

I sigh. “He left me, Falcon. But I don’t for one minute believe that he doesn’t love me.”

“I don’t believe that either,” Falcon says. “That’s why you’re in danger, Ray.”

12

VINNIE

Daniela Agudelo isnoteleven years old. She’s a beautiful young woman with gorgeous olive skin, hair that’s black as night, and dark chocolate eyes. Her lips are painted ruby red, her lashes long and lush.

Not eleven by a long shot. Probably early twenties. The documents said eleven. How did Mario get the age wrong?

“You must be Mr. Gallo,” she says to me in only slightly accented English. “I’m Daniela.” She holds out her hand.

I shake it lightly. “It’s a pleasure. I was told you were eleven.”

She chuckles. “I’m not sure where you got your information. I’m seventeen. Eighteen in a few months.” She pouts her lips. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Gallo.”

“Yes, the feeling is mutual,” I say.

She gestures toward the dining room. “I hope you enjoy the meal. Our chef has preparedceviche de camarón con mangofor an appetizer.”

“Sounds great.”

She narrows her gaze. “Would you do me the honor of sitting by me?”

“Of course, Señorita Agudelo.” I hold the chair for her as she sits down.

I take my own chair and read the printed list of courses at my seat.

Ceviche de camarón con mango.

Ajiaco Santafereño.

Lomo al Trapo con Chimichurri.

Ensalada.

“Ensaladameans ‘salad,’ I know that.” I point at the remaining entries on the list of courses. “What are all the rest of these?”

Daniela smiles. “The ajiaco is a traditional Colombian soup with three types of potatoes, shredded chicken, corn, and a touch of guasca leaves. It’s garnished with heavy cream and capers, served alongside avocado slices and white rice.”

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