Page 65 of Salvatore

A text comes through, and I dump the chair to read it.

Remy

Answer your fucking phone.

I swipe the message from my screen with a tired breath. “I need to go.”

“Already?” my mother demands.

“Duty calls.”

“When will I see you again?”

“I’ll return when I can.” I don’t offer a kiss or hug. There are rules to this game of ours and physical touch is one of mine. I won’t step foot near that enclosure. “I’ll bring more of that expensive wool you like.”

Her face fills with the uncensored motherly disappointment she’s always wielded so well. “I want different clothes.” She waves a dismissive hand at her grey attire, the polyester a humiliation for someone who once owned a fashion empire. “These are disgusting.”

“I’ll have the housekeeper arrange it.”

“And chocolate.”

I head for the door. “Goodbye, Mother.”

She doesn’t reciprocate the farewell. She never does. It’s as if the pleasantry is one too many steps down the path of feigned civility.

I walk from the hidden room that contains her cell, close the secret door into Lorenzo’s basement proper, then head up the stairs as I return Remy’s call.

“Oh, look who finally remembered he has a phone,” he mutters in greeting.

“I didn’t forget. I just prefer not to answer your calls.” I open Lorenzo’s basement door and enter the ground level hall. “Someone better be dead or dying to have you disturbing me three times in as many minutes.”

“So wanting nothing more than to hear the pleasure of your voice isn’t a good enough excuse?”

“What do you want, Remy?” I trek along the large, tiled hall that runs the length of Lorenzo’s expansive mansion estate,the entire building silent except for the hum of my uncle’s housekeeper coming from the kitchen.

“I need your help. Well, actually?—”

“Ineed your help,” Olivia’s voice carries in the background.

I grind my teeth. Of course his woman is involved in whatever annoyance is on the ticket for today.

“Ivy is missing,” Remy adds. “Have you heard anything?”

My feet stop of their own accord, the face of the woman who’s haunted me becoming a clearer picture in my mind. “No.” The obsessive itch I’ve been fighting over Olivia’s best friend comes back with vengeance.

“She hasn’t reached out or checked her messages in two weeks,” Olivia calls out. “At first I’d thought it was because she asked for space, but she wouldn’t go this long without making contact. Something is wrong.”

I run a rough hand over my mouth. Agitated. Uncomfortable. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“You had someone look into her, didn’t you?” Remy asks. “I need them to do some more digging and find out where she is.”

“And you expect the organization to foot the bill for this inconsequential bullshit?” I force myself to continue along the hall to the open living area, refusing to dive down a tempting rabbit hole. “We have higher priorities.”

“Please, Salvatore,” Olivia begs. “She’s my best friend.”

“She’s Gabriel Rodriguez’s daughter. It’s not like your friendship is destined to flourish if you plan to continue fucking my brother.” I turn on my heel and make for the entry, trying and failing to shove Ivy’s image from my mind.

“Salvo,” Remy warns. “We’re going to search for her with or without your help. So stop being a dick about it and give me the number of your PI.”

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