I shouldn’t let myself entertain such ideas. There’s only one other man I’ve ever wanted to let down my barriers for, if he were willing to take the risk Maddox was so cavalier about. As dangerous a prospect as it is, I can’t help but wonder what Papá would think about Leo.
When Leo came to my rescue last weekend, I almost dared give in and let that feeling surface for the first time since my kidnapping attempt. The way he looked at me with such warmth when he touched my cheek, I was reminded of the ordeal of my near miss two years ago. Of being shell-shocked after killing the man who’d broken into our house to try to take me, and of how right it felt to be held by Leo in the aftermath.
I wanted Leo to kiss me on both occasions. Desperately. But all we shared was a look, a silent exchange that still leaves me wondering what could have been. Maybe I’ve just been so starved for affection that any man brave enough to cross that line stands out, but with Leo I believe it’s more than that. Gustavo regularly pushes my boundaries, but Leo always maintains a respectful distance. Except when he didn’t in those two brief, charged moments—and I wish he’d cross the line for real. Because if it were him, a trusted soldier in Papá’s own army, I might just be able to convince Papá it could work without compromising my focus on the business.
Voices carry up the hillside from our lower garden patio as I exit the car. Instead of heading into the house, I head down the path that adjoins the driveway and winds around the terraced hill to a locked gate with a keypad entry. My code gives me access, and on the other side, Gustavo and Papá are seated across from each other on the rattan patio chairs near the fire pit, speaking in low voices.
Papá’s brow is furrowed, and he shakes his head, then stops midsentence when he sees me. He smiles and stands, reaching out both hands. Gustavo stands as well.
“Mija. How did your appointment with the tattoo artist go?”
I blink and falter for a step before closing the distance and taking his hands, leaning in to let him kiss me on the cheek. Over his shoulder, Gustavo’s eyes blaze, the angry red wound on his face still only half-healed after a week, the bruising mottled.
“Actually, I changed my mind,” I say, as if it isn’t strange that he knows my business despite the fact that I didn’t tell him where I was going today. “I decided I don’t want anything to overshadow the tattoo Toni gave me. It’s too precious.”
I’m only partly lying. I desperately want the tattoo Maddox sketched for me today, but I doubt I’ll return to get it. Not after how I left things with him this afternoon, especially since Leo nearly discovered us.
As if on cue, a familiar voice calls my name, sending a jolt of awareness through me.
“Celeste! Where the hell have you been?”
My rapid heartbeat takes a moment to slow—it isn’t Leo, but his older brother Manny, whose voice is uncannily similar to Leo’s. He’s strolling toward us with three open bottles of beer, the brown glass coated in condensation. He’s the more clean-cut of the Reyes brothers, with a neatly trimmed beard and shaved head, where Leo opted to own the lion’s mane of hair that has become his trademark. Manny also has a sweeter, softer demeanor and comes across as the gentler of the two though I know from experience that he can be as ruthless as Gustavo. Manny’s eyes have a shrewd glint when he shifts his glance between Gustavo and my father.
When he reaches us, he hands one of the bottles of beer to my father and one to Gustavo.
“You want one? I can go back and get myself another.” He holds the third bottle out to me and points a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen.
I shake my head. “No thank you. I think I interrupted something though. Papá, please forgive me. What were you and Gustavo discussing?”
Taking a seat, I smile up at the three men, waiting for Papá to answer. Papá sits again and begins a discussion about a new shipment of antiquities coming into Long Beach later in the month. It isn’t news to me—we’re preparing to add a second auction for the fall, and the preparations need to be handled well in advance. But I can’t shake the sense that he and Gustavo were talking about something different when I arrived.
Elena calls us to supper a little later, and when my father and Gustavo head inside, I take a moment to pull Manny aside.
“It isn’t just the auction they’ve been discussing today, is it? What are they keeping from me?”
“Just some other business your father needs Gustavo to handle. Nothing you need to worry about.”
I grab his arm and yank him back. He gives me a surprised look and stops. “I do need to worry about it. Anything related to the business is my responsibility. I’m not just his daughter. I’m the CFO. If someone’s getting paid, it goes through me.”
He gives me a helpless look and shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you. How much blood do you want on your hands, Celeste? The feds ever come after him, you want to stick to the accounting side of things and let Gustavo and Papá’s fixer handle the dirty shit.”
“I don’t give a damn if he’s hiring a new gardener or a fucking assassin. I need to
