Page 41 of One Secret

Darcy smiles up at me with an adoring expression so natural that I almost believe it.

'Sounds like a plan.' Her tone turns intimate. Purring. 'Bed sounds real good right about now.'

Suddenly heated, I have to resist the urge to tug at the collar I'm not wearing, as we walk into the fanciest damn elevator I've ever seen.

With all its glass and spun gold, it feels more like stepping inside a crystal chandelier than a simple lift.

I've only ever seen pictures of Felix Caruso. But from his hotel alone, I can tell he's as much a pompous peacock as his acquisitions manager, Fiori.

Birds of a feather and all that...

We ride the crystal pod, which seems to be held together with little more than golden dental floss, up just one level and then step out into a square lobby as embellished as the foyer below.

This time, the space has been plastered in a peach-toned marble and long, gossamer curtains over the glass doorways gives everything a slightly homier feel. To the right are a butt-load of wrapped towels and water dispensers. In one floats cucumbers, another lemons. Further on is a discreet sign highlighting the way to the resort's spa. Up ahead runs a separate corridor flanked on one side with bedroom doorways and lined on the other with floor-to-ceiling windows. Those windows look out across a rooftop garden, another pretty fountain, and a set of wide, winding stairs that hug the upper floor and around to the rear side of the building. Based on the architecture I'd seen out front, I recognize the steps as heading toward the pool.

Given the status of the resort's guests, staff are unlikely to take the same path to and from somewhere as traffic-heavy as the poolside. Which means there has to be another, more secluded route somewhere.

I keep up my analysis for a few more feet. I watch around corners and inspect the ceilings for hidden cameras. I eye even the glugging water dispensers with suspicion...

Until an elbow hits me pointedly in the ribs.

'Ah!—what?' I grunt.

Lana glances back at us.

Darcy smiles and hugs closer against my side.

'Nothing,' she whispers with a grin of mischief.

Confused, I drop the subject in time for Lana to turn and offer me a plastic wallet. I can see the edges of a couple of keycards nestled inside.

Whilst all the doors we've walked past so far bear only numbers, the one we've stopped beside has its own plaque.

"The Athena Suite"

'Goddess of Wisdom,' Darcy muses to herself. She glances at Lana with a grin. 'I like the sound of that.'

'Wisdom and War,' Lana corrects.

'Even better.'

Another hidden message darts between the women's estrogen receptors and I can do little more than take the offered key cards.

'I hope to speak with you again whilst you're here Mr. Alesi, Ms. Calabrese,' Lana offers in parting. 'Please enjoy your stay.'

As the little wallet is transferred, my hand brushes against Lana's and I notice a small, rough patch on the side of her thumb. A callus. The kind you get from the repeated activation of a safety toggle on a firearm. I'm momentarily impressed.

The Caruso men might be peacocks but the women are apparently badasses...

It's a subtle but distinct difference from the Machellis.

Traditional to the point of archaic, the Machellis never hand out wet work to their women. As far as Leon and his family are concerned, the fairer sex is to be protected, honored, and worshipped. Never sent into the fray.

Personally, I've never really seen the issue.

With modern weaponry and the right training, a female finger can pull the trigger as well as a male one. Women don't have to be delicate flowers.

Working the keycard into the lock, I take Darcy by the hand to steer her inside the suite. At the touch of her fingers, I'm immediately offered proof of concept. Darcy, after all, has scars of her own. Little cuts and calluses. A small burn over the top of her hand. Working for a crime family isn't the only way to gain a few occupational souvenirs, after all. Industrial kitchens can be just as unforgiving.

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