Don't be scared. We have Daddy.
Right. Cool. Except Daddy can't be everywhere at once, and I am not a potted plant.
Stop waiting to be saved, Belle.
I stand. My heartbeat goes stubborn. Screw sitting pretty. I'm the idiot who lit the match; the least I can do is go find the gasoline.
I crack the door and listen. The hall's a pulse of motion—two guards pass, and their voices recede into the distance. I slip out when the window opens, barefoot, quiet, a ghost.
I duck into alcoves, slide along walls, and make it to the surveillance room undetected.
Inside, screens line the walls, showing every angle of the estate. The chair still holds the imprint of whoever was sitting here before the lockdown. Looks like everyone got called away for more important duties than babysitting cameras.
Lucky me.
I slide into the seat, watching the monitors that line the wall in grids: drive, gate, hall, garden, kitchen, Luca's office. Timestamped and all dated.
What am I even looking for? Something. Anything. A clue to why this house is suddenly a fortress and where the threat might be.
I pull up the archives, focusing on the night of the break-in.
Hell yeah, Belle. That's the perfect place to start.
Camera by camera, I track movements. Guards at posts. Shadows in gardens. Nothing unusual until—wait.
Luca's office. Nine forty-seven p.m. Three hours before the attack.
Declan slips in, glancing over his shoulder. He moves to Luca's bar and pulls out a bottle of scotch. He then pulls something from his pocket.
A small vial, that bastard.
My blood turns to ice as I watch him unscrew the bottle cap, tip the vial, and pour whatever sinful shit that is into Luca's scotch.
"Holy shit," I breathe.
Luca's brother tried to poison him.
25
LUCA
"Luca, we need to talk," the door flies shut behind her and Belle whirls in like a tornado.
"Why the hell are you out of your room?" I stand so fast the chair skids. Fury climbs my spine, automatic. "Did I not?—"
"Save it," she shakes her head, marching straight for my desk. "I brought you gold."
I snarl. "We're in lockdown, Belle. There are armed men everywhere with orders to shoot first."
"Shut up and listen to me."
"Excuse me?"
What part of my life's a fucking disaster movie does Belle not get? This little surprise visit isn't helping my plans.
"I said shut up." She's already at my computer. I follow the heat trail she leaves and watch her bend over my keyboard, hips brushing the desk, perfume turning my brain to dust.
"Belle—"