Page 10 of Brazilian Revenge

“Come,” he said, and didn’t worry about waiting for her reply. His main goal was to escape the confines of the guest room.

He took the flight of stairs and met Laura in the hallway. She waited for him with a smile on her pretty face as she played with her short black hair. Besides his trusted assistant, Laura was also a dear friend, one of the few people he listened to, even though she often told him he didn’t listen to her enough.

“Hey.” She nudged his elbow. “So what’s the deal with the clothes?” She handed him a few bags.

“Personal stuff. I’ll explain later.”

“How about now?” Laura asked.

He felt, rather than heard, Satyanna coming down the stairs, her hands toying with the curvy railing.

“Satyanna, this is Laura. Laura, meet Satyanna,” he said, and gave Satyanna the bags.

“Interesting.” Laura grinned, her gaze sliding from him to Satyanna. “Nice to meet you.” She offered Satyanna her hand.

Satyanna smiled a little and shook her hand. “Same here.”

“So what’s the story?”

“No story. Thanks for doing this,” he said. She had a company credit card for miscellaneous items, so he didn’t bother going into detail. “I won’t be going to the office today. Reschedule all my appointments.” He walked toward the door and gestured for her to do the same.

Laura made a face, and he could tell she was dying to know what was going on. After he closed the door behind him, he found Satyanna on the first step, her hand clasped around the bags.

“She has the key to your place?”

He nodded.

“She’s not just your assistant, is she?”

Since when did he owe her any explanations? “Does it matter?” Maybe she was more interested in the fact someone had the key to his place than what that person meant. Made sense. If she had any ulterior reasons for coming back into his life…

She wrinkled her nose and waved him off. “No. Of course it doesn’t.”

He toyed with the idea of mentioning Laura had a live-in girlfriend. Why bother, though? “Good. Then change so we can go.”

“One question. Why are you so hung up on finding Harry?”

He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Are you backing down already? It didn’t take long.”

“No. I’m just wondering. You’re a rich guy. The money—”

“It’s not just about the financial value of what he stole,” he said, remembering the picture of his mother, the only one he had, holding a flower. To make her eternal, he had taken it to a coveted art sculptor from France. The sculpture had been acknowledged as one of the artist’s best works, and shortly after its completion, Pasquale had died, which certainly increased its value. Leonardo now understood letting a specialized art magazine feature the sculpture had been the wrong move; that’s probably how Harry learned of it and plotted to steal it. With Satyanna’s help. And his plan to put the sculpture inside his father’s grave, located on the estate their family owned, was cut short. “That sculpture represented my mother. The nicest, kindest woman who ever lived.”

She flashed him an apologetic smile, and for a moment he almost believed her. When he hadn’t known who she was, he had trusted her in a couple days. If she hadn’t stolen from him, if she hadn’t run away, who knows what else could have happened? They could have been together. What was his excuse now? He knew who she was, and how she played a part in deceiving an old lady who ended up dead. She tried to bribe a cop, for crying out loud. Satyanna Darling was not the woman for him. And never would be.

“I’m sorry.” She started to head upstairs, then stopped midway and spun around. “Fine. I’ll go with you to the hospital.”

…

She drummed her fingers on the designer jeans his good-looking assistant had brought. Sure, the woman had gorgeous olive skin that made her paleness dreadful, combined with curves that guys usually went for. Satyanna’s heart raced.

She was no dummy. Wassername was his lover, or had been at some point. Could she blame her? Although…why would she agree to bring her clothes? Strange.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked without stopping reading his iPad next to her in the chauffeured Lincoln Town Car.

She scooted away from him, her fingers drumming the old-fashioned wooden door handle. “I was thinking about food.”

“Hungry again?”

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