“You thought fucking wrong,” I say, slamming the phone down.
Maxim: Lose this number.
Grace: No.
Maxim: Yes. Before I block you.
Grace: Don’t. I miss you.
I stare down at those words, and my hand reaches out and rubs the ache in my chest.
Maxim: I miss you too.
Grace: See, that wasn’t so hard was it?
She makes me smile. This woman.
Maxim: The old man shouldn’t have given you this number.
Grace: He’s a romantic at heart.
Maxim: No, he’s an idiot. He’s putting you in danger.
Grace: I trust that you will protect me.
Maxim: Wildcat, how am I supposed to concentrate now that I have you on speed dial?
Grace: You’re a great multitasker. I’m sure you can work it out.
Cheeky little minx.
Maxim: You always did like it when I used my tongue and fingers on you.
Grace: See you can multitask.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
Grace: Just a heads-up. Interpol interviewed me this morning.
I still at her words.
Maxim: What the fuck did they want?
Grace: Chill. Enrique is Tomas’ cousin. It wasn’t anything official. I didn’t say anything just confirmed what they knew already.
Maxim: What do they know already?
Grace: That I was in Italy and that the people who took me were Russian.
Maxim: That’s all?
Grace: Yes. I blamed my detox for fuzzy memories.
That’s my girl.
Grace: I’m going to have a sit down with my family this afternoon in the war room, and I’ll let you know what I find out.
Maybe the old man was onto something pooling both of our resources together. We might be able to find these fuckers earlier.