Page 118 of Devotion

I thought we were rich. Each of us Diamante brothers had our own apartment at the compound, and our own places in Manhattan. Italy. Paris. Not to mention the other properties I assume we still technically own all over the globe. Vacation homes, essentially what you might call luxury safe houses.

This level of wealth makes us look like wannabes.

And a part of me almost feels mad that we didn’t indulge more when we had it. Of course,notdrawing that kind of attention was the whole point in New York.

At least I got to taste a little bit of that sweet life before I died.

Because I feel like today is going to be a big day.

A few minutes later, as if in confirmation, a knock at the door precedes staff bringing in our breakfast, another ridiculous spread. Vanya and I slip into robes behind a divider, freshening up and sitting down.

We eat as they clean up the room, all of them silent, oblivious to our presence, yet somehow highly attentive. I know if I so much as sneeze, one of them would be at my side with a tissue.

Glancing across the table at my partner in crime, a little smile plays at my lips. Then hers.

I hear them sweeping up the remains of the chair.

On the balcony, a maid is polishing the railing in a certain spot.

I almost feel bad.

But what can we do? It’s been life or death nonstop lately and we needed a little life yesterday. All day. And all night.

It’s like she can read my thoughts, wagging her eyebrows a couple of times at me.

Instantly, I’m at attention again.

Good thing I’m sitting down as a server sweeps right by me, refilling my coffee.

“Excuse me…” I venture, guessing none of them will answer any questions.

The flat, polite look I receive is sign enough. Either they are sworn to silence, or they don’t speak our language.

Or maybe they really don’t like us.

I try again a couple of times, giving up as the attendant from the day before steps up to my shoulder.

“Yes, sir?”

“Geez!” I almost slosh scalding coffee on my crotch. “Have you been there the whole time?’

“Perhaps.”

“Oh. Cute. What’s on the docket today, Mr. Turturo?”

“My name is Ahmed.” The bald man folds his hands and bows.

“My name is Indigo…you know what. Never mind. Any news for us, Ahmed?” I flick a glance at Vanya.

She’s stoic as usual, but I see the gleam in her eyes. At least she thinks I’m funny.

“The lord will see you today. You will be ready at 1:45 p.m. sharp.”

“Gladly. Do you think he’ll like my robe? Or should I throw on a curtain…maybe my bath towel?”

“Everything in this palace belongs to Lord Adil.” He speaks blindly, without emotion. But I swear the guy is fucking with me.

“Fine.His towel. If he’s so picky, then I’ll wear what I’ve got on that’s mine. And he is not going to like what we did onhisrug.”

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