Page 77 of Thorns of Silence
Once there, Cesar picked the lock, and we were inside within a minute. It was as I remembered it. Extravagant. Flashy. Posh.
I made my way deeper into the house, my feet the only ones echoing against the marble floor. Stopping, I glanced over my shoulder. “Are you waiting for an invitation?”
“I want to know what we’re doing here.”
Stubborn ass. “I remembered something and I want to check Romero’s mother-in-law’s room.”
He gave his head a subtle shake but followed me up the stairs. When we reached the top floor, I headed for the double mahogany doors, vaguely remembering the floor plan. This had to be the master bedroom.
Pushing the doors open, I stepped inside the large space. It wasn’t as bare as I thought it’d be, considering Diana had been married to Glasgow for a number of years. The large four-poster bed was made up, the scent of fresh linen still in the air. Fresh flowers in a vase. Half-opened jewelry box.
But what dominated the room was a massive painting of an orgy scene. Weird as fuck. Not even I was that freaky.
“I thought Diana Bergman lived in England.”
“So did I. Maybe she visits frequently.” I flicked him a look. “Check for any built-in wall safes.”
We made our way around the bedroom. Checking every inch of wall, bookshelves, closet—
“Got it.”
I rushed to him, reaching him just as he reached for the massive painting. Our faces against the orgy oil painting, we lowered it onto the floor and shook our heads.
“Why in the fuck would a grandma have that in her room?” Cesar questioned. “My grandma had a cross and a painting of the Virgin Mary in her bedroom.”
“I guess this grandma is more progressive,” I remarked dryly. “After all, she’s been married like five times or so.”
Without further ado, Cesar started working the safe. There was no one better than Cesar when it came to breaking into these things. It took him less than five minutes to crack it open.
“Looks like a bunch of cash and jewelry,” he pointed out as I started to dig through it all. Stacks of hundred-dollar bills. Photos. Diamonds. Certificates… Fake passports.
“That’s weird,” I muttered. “Why would she have fake passports?”
“Maybe Romero got them for her in case of emergencies,” he offered a logical explanation. “After all, the girls are under her care.”
I went through each one of them and my brows furrowed. “They’re all for her,” I pointed out.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he echoed my thoughts.
Discarding them, I was about to shut the safe when a stack of documents in the back caught my eye. I reached for it and started unfolding them. They looked like letters… No, emails between Diana Bergman and someone with a weird profile name.Blast from the Past.Bizarre. The symbol right next to it was even more so. It was the same symbol I’d seen hanging around Dr. Freud’s neck.
What the fuck was it with that symbol? I shook my head and was just about to get rid of it when a name caught my attention. Angelo Leone.My father’s name.
I scanned over the words, every fiber of me on high alert. The last email was between my father and Diana Bergman. It was cryptic and made zero fucking sense.
To: Angelo Leone
You fuck with my family.
I fuck with yours.
D
It was dated a little over five years ago. I zeroed in on the date, which looked familiar.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Cesar spat. “That’s right before your kidnapping.”
A red haze blurred my vision as puzzle pieces shifted, forcing me to close my eyes briefly to disperse the energy. When I opened them, I met my right-hand man’s gaze. “I think Diana Bergman was behind my kidnapping five years ago.”
