Page 37

After getting off three clean shots, I step behind Daniela, lower her arm, and take the weapon from her trembling hand.

Jesus Christ.

The tent is teeming with guards, knocking over crates as they search for more trouble, but the fucker I’m most interested in is at Daniela’s side, like he should have been the entire time. I glower at Duarte, Daniela’s personal guard, before dragging her to my chest.

“Are you okay?” I whisper into her hair.

“Yes. Victor?” she whimpers.

He’s alive.I didn’t hit him, but I’m not sure if he’s injured, and I won’t lie about it. “I want to know exactly what happened, but first, let me see about Victor.”

“There’s a woman under a tablecloth,” Daniela says, “over there.” She points to a corner where a couple of soldiers are on their knees. They must have found her. “She might be—she’s hurt.”

I don’t want to leave her, but I need to know how this happened, and if there’s more to come. Given the number of guards surrounding us right now, this is probably the safest place for Daniela.

I turn to Duarte. “You and I need to talk. But right now, she doesn’t move from this spot. And don’t take your fucking eyes off her. Not for a goddamn second,” I bark, before striding across the tent to Victor.

“What about Valentina?” Daniela’s voice is twisting with terror.

The kind of terror that makes me want to go on a murderous rampage. This was supposed to be a wonderful day for her—for us.

I stop and turn to face her, and my stomach burns. Daniela’s pale, and her features are drawn tight. I am so pissed at Tavares for letting this happen under his watch.

“Santi and Mia know. Valentina’s in good hands.” I don’t say she’s safe, as much as I want to. Because I don’t know. But I’m confident Lucas sent out an alert the second he got Daniela’s text. “Call Santi or Mia if you want to check for yourself.”

Her head bobs a few times.

Lucas intercepts me on the way to Victor. “Your mother’s fine. She’s getting her hair done for tonight. She hasn’t heard a thing about this shitshow.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

Victor is shaken up, but appears uninjured. The gunman is dead.

It would have been helpful to have him alive so we could interrogate him, but when I took the shots, my main concern was for Victor’s life. I don’t regret that.

“You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m fine,” he huffs.

“Not a request.”

He nods. “I came into the tent to get something, and noticed him loitering—it almost looked like he was hiding. No one was supposed to be in this tent, and he didn’t look familiar. When I asked to see his credentials, he drew a gun and grabbed the young woman who followed me in.”

Loitering and looked like he was hiding. Those are not the marks of a highly experienced individual. We should have been able to prevent it.

Tavaresstrides over. “The woman is unconscious, but alive.”

“He hit her in the head with the butt of the gun,” Victor explains. “She was bleeding when he moved her.”

“What the fuck happened here?” I ask Tavares, as Lucas hands me the badge that was around the gunman’s neck.

“I don’t have answers for you yet.” He looks me squarely in the eye. “But I will.”

I grab him by the throat. “I’ll be gone a few hours, and when I get back, I expect to know why my wife, the person behind you, wearing makeup and a pink skirt, had to pull out a gun, while this fucking property is overrun with trained soldiers under your control.”

I release him, before my fingers dig too deep into his carotid arteries. “I want to know his name. How he got in. Who hired him. And the last place he stuck his dick. Everything. Or the next person I put a bullet in will be you.”

To his credit, Tavares doesn’t flinch.

I shove the identification badge at him. “Somehow, I don’t think he’s with the catering company.

“Take care of this fucking mess,” I growl to no one in particular, before I go back to Daniela.

I take her hand and let my thumb find her pulse. It’s still racing. I don’t know how she’s going to make it through the day once the adrenaline shuts off.

“Where was Duarte when this happened?” I could ask Duarte, himself, because he’s standing right here. But I won’t show him that kind of respect.

“Antonio,” she presses her hand to my chest, “please calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. You could have been killed. That gun you carry should be merely a precaution for a doomsday scenario. It’s not meant for you to have to protect yourself in our home.” I say it as much for her guard as for her.

“Duarte was stationed at the front entrance of the tent, watching everyone who came in and out.”

Why the fuck wasn’t he watching you? She needs two guards on her at all times, like Valentina. Now I’m not just pissed at him. I’m pissed at myself, too.

“Why didn’t you follow your protectee, my wife, when she left the main tent?” I ask Duarte.

“I have no excuse,” he says, in a clear voice. “I apologize. It won’t happen again, but I understand if you want to relieve me of my duty.”

“I forgot to tell him,” Daniela says softly.

“You forgot?” I ask, my tone a mixture of disbelief and more anger.

She nods, but it’s possible she’s protecting him. Daniela’s first instinct is always to protect everyone around her. I have no doubt she’d cover for him, even if it meant taking the blame herself.

I stare straight into Duarte’s eyes. “Did she tell you she was leaving?”

He doesn’t answer, and that tells me everything I need to know about what happened, and about him. Duarte has been with me for long enough to know that I don’t fuck around with this kind of thing. He wouldn’t be relieved of his duties. He’d be dead before the sun set. Yet, he chose to remain silent in order to protect her. I won’t fault him for protecting my wife, even from me.

“I realize it wasn’t in the original plan, but you’ll be coming to the luncheon with us. The venue is secure, but in light of what just happened, I want extra security. Give me a moment with my wife.”

He nods. “Certainly, senhor.”

After he leaves, I call Santi. It’ll buy me some time to let the rage lessen before I deal with Daniela.

Before he says hello, I lay into him. “I don’t know what kind of instruction you’re giving my wife, but she pulled out a gun today, and she hesitated. That will never happen again. After this week is over, I want her on the range every day, until she won’t even hesitate to shoot you.” I glare at Daniela while I speak, because my order is meant for them both.

I end the call before he can get in a word. Santi knows exactly what my beef is. If you aim a gun at an armed man, you better not hesitate a millisecond before you fire.

I’m struggling to control my anger, but I won’t embarrass Daniela in public, and I won’t allow her to take the brunt of my fear—because that’s what this really is: fear disguised as rage. Daniela in a room with a gunman—it’s bloodcurdling. I can’t sweep this under the rug.

“You forgot?”

“I have a lot on my plate, and I’m used to moving around our home—and the property surrounding the house—without a shadow. I was in a hurry to find Victor and it didn’t even occur to me to tell Duarte.” She touches my arm. “Please don’t do this. Not today.”

I gaze into her warm brown eyes, pleading for me to move on, and I do what she asked of me earlier. I tap into the intimate moment we shared this morning in the bedroom. Her joy. Her cheekiness. Her goodness. And my heart, that’s so filled with love for her that I can no longer even pretend that it isn’t there. The longer I gaze at her, the more docile the beast raging inside becomes.

“Are you sure you’re up for the luncheon? I’m happy to make your excuses. You could rest for a couple of hours.”

She holds both my hands, lacing our fingers together. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

For a few seconds, while I bask in the glow of her face, admiring her steely backbone, I forget that someone is trying to kill us.