Page 149 of Scarlet Angel

A satellite phone sits on the coffee table. Reception for cellular isn’t present where we’re located. In another room, there’s a hardwired computer with access to the world. Drago, like me, is a tech guy, and we’ll be good here. I’ll weigh in as much as I can.

The one bright spot? The case against the Lupi Grigi’s smuggling business will proceed. The authorities have unearthed enough evidence and witnesses that the famiglia’s leaders will be locked up with or without Scarlet’s testimony. Massimo is being held without bail. Pearson’s media conglomerate will run a series on the affair, and within a week, every major news outlet will follow suit. The investigation is unstoppable.

“Are these Drago’s family ornaments?” Scarlet asks.

“I’ve no idea. Could be his staff’s.”

“Did we kick someone out of the cottage?”

“No, love. The caretakers live not too far away. Keeping this place up is their whole job, plus I think they have sheep or something. Work options are slim out here, so they’re grateful for the year-round work. I don’t think they’re bothered too often.”

They’ve stocked the kitchen and promised to be by every three days with more supplies. Other than that, Scarlet and I are on our own.

Whoever came after us are lucky bastards. If they’d harmed Scarlet, I’d be ensconced in a sky-high flat in London daring any fuckwit to come after me, and I’d be drafting a terminal list. Instead, I’ll wait to see what the police, the intelligence blokes, and Arrow dig up. Then I’ll draft that bloody list.

In the meantime, Scarlet’s safety remains my concern. No one will stumble upon us out here in this remote spot in Shetland.

“This is really nice,” Scarlet says.

“You like it?”

The best attribute I see to the place is that it’s secluded. If it weren’t so bloody frigid, we could fuck outside by the cliffs.

She abandons the decorated tree to stand before me and cocks her head to the side.

“You worried about being bored?”

“No,” I answer honestly. “I think we’ll find plenty to do.”

“Are you planning on hunting?”

“No.” I’m not big into hunting. Although that is a reason people travel here.

“I didn’t see any golf courses.” She smiles a teasing, flirtatious smile.

“I don’t golf,” I say.

“I thought that’s big in Scotland.”

“It is. Not here.”

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

She straddles me on the sofa, and my hands fall to her hips.

“I’m a touch knackered.” I barely slept last night, what with getting reports, answering questions, and ensuring my staff had been taken care of, and today’s been a travel day.

“So, how do you envision us spending our days?”

The firelight casts a halo around her, and I reach for her, cupping her cheek in my palm.

“Shagging. Eating. Every once in a while, maybe we’ll brave the elements for a hike.”

“And what about when this is over? When the holiday is past?”

“Whatever you like.” It’s an honest answer. “Would you like to live the life of a digital nomad? We can travel. Go wherever you wish. What is it that you want, my love?”

“Do you know you’re the first person to ever ask me that?”

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