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Kaz rose. “Well, I’ll be in touch. In the meantime, try not to make any public appearances together. I’ll be meeting with some key people in the county and letting them know that you’re both on the outs. It will help when you reach out to Fiona, Duke. You know, make it more believable.”
“Yeah!” I said in disgust.
After Kaz left, I looked at Duke, who did not appear happy—nope, not at all.
“Well?” I asked.
“How the hell is this my life?” He rubbed the back ofhis neck. “People shootin’ at us, burnin’ down property. I was a fuckin’ businessman in a suit, and now I’m a cowboy who has a target on his back.”
“But you have me now.” I wrapped both my arms around him, crawling onto his lap.
He held me and kissed my nose. “Yeah, I got you.”
“And that makes it all worth it, right?” I asked expectantly.
He laughed. “Yeah,Florecita, it makes it all worth it.”
I leaned into him. “You have to do this,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“We need to close this tight so we can get on with our lives.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he promised.
CHAPTER 43
duke
It took three weeks to put it in play.
I met Fiona at a Dallas landmark, Nick & Sam’s, a steakhouse known for its perfectly marbled wagyu, velvet-lined booths, and a wine list that could put some small countries to shame.
It was the kind of place that Fiona liked, opulent and exclusive, where power deals were made over dry-aged ribeye steaks and five-hundred-dollar bottles of wine.
I sat in the dim lighting of our private booth, swirling red wine in my glass, which I wasn’t going to drink.
My suit was sharp and tailored. I realized with some glee that I hadn’t worn a suit since my father’s funeral. The wire nestled beneath the fabric was light, barely noticeable, but I felt the weight of it just the same.
I called Fiona three times in the past two weeks. The first time was to chat and check in.
“How are you doin’, doll?”
I heard her hiss of breath on the line. “Duke?”
“Yeah, doll. It’s been a minute.”
Kaz sat with me during every call. Elena didn’t, saying she was busy, which she was, working with builders to get a new stable and barn set up—this time state of the art and more fire resistant than the previous ones.
A text message flashed on my phone screen. I checked it.
Unknown number:She’s walking in.
I set my phone face down on the table. I wanted it close just in case, but I also didn’t want it to interrupt my conversation with Fiona. Kaz, another agent who was an expert at field work, and I had walked through how this would play out several times.
I knew how to run a meeting, how to close a deal—how to control a room with a handshake and a well-placed word. But this? This was different because no business deal had ever put my life, or the lives of the people I loved, on the line. This wasn’t about profit margins or negotiations—this was about survival.
Fiona moved through the restaurant with confidence, hips swaying, heels clicking on the polished floors. She was dressed to kill—cream-colored silk draped over her like it was made just for her, diamonds winking at her throat, wrist, and ears.