Page 2 of Shield

Every metal accent, door frame, and light switch is titanium instead of gold. Rather than a coffee shop downstairs in the lobby, the entire first floor of Dragovari Tower is an open space that is often turned into a pop-up nightclub. There are a few glassed-in offices lining the side walls and a reception desk at the back with a bank of elevators in a hall behind it.

When Jacob finishes updating me, I nod. “Tell Vin I’ll be in the 17th-floor lounge for the next thirty minutes.” I have to find something to do while Eleanor extracts Valentina from my penthouse, anyway.

Jacob nods and retreats to make the call.

I step into the elevator, heading to the 17th floor, a VIP space with private couches and a bar. It’s where we retreat when the ground floor turns into one of our pop-up clubs and we want a quieter space. It’s a neutral location that lets Vin know that I’m ready to talk.

It’s also a good place to nap while I’m waiting, but as the elevator doors slide open, I see I won’t have that opportunity. Vin is already there, seated on a couch. He looks up from his phone as I enter.

“That was fast,” I say, settling into a chair opposite him.

“I was already here,” he replies gruffly.

I wonder how often he’s been here over the last week while I was nursing Siena back to health after what his father did to her. Though I have a place on the Demonio estate, I spend most of my time here at my penthouse. Vin, on the other hand, stays exclusively on the Demonio’s private island, so when he wants some space, he often comes here.

Vin clears his throat. “When I heard you sent Siena home, I figured you’d show up eventually.”

“How’d you hear that?” My voice is more threatening than I intended, but while I don’t view Vin as a threat to her, the fewer people who know her whereabouts the better.

“I reached out to Grit, asked him for a favor with Tommy, but he was taking Siena home.”

I grimace at the mention of her name. If Valentina is here already, that means Siena was dropped off and driven to her house in New Jersey a while ago. Though I told Grit, my head of security, to watch her from a distance and update me regularly, I’m ready for Vin to leave so I can open my surveillance apps and see for myself.

We eye each other warily for a minute before Vin speaks. “You can’t kill the old man,” he says, his voice gruff.

My expression hardens. “That’s not accurate.”

He shakes his head, irritated. “What I mean is that the time isn’t right.”

“He touched Siena.”

“She’s not your wife, your mother, your sister, or even your girlfriend,” Vin counters.

“That’s all you’ve got?” I growl, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees. “He kidnapped her, beat her, and would have raped her if I hadn’t intervened. Since when do we condone that kind of violence against a woman who doesn’t have itcoming? Who the fuckareyou? ”

“She’s withholding information we need.”

“Thatyouneed,” I say, sitting back in my chair. I glare at him, and he narrows his eyes back at me. I can see him figuring out that I have some idea of the role he played in creating the flash drive in the first place. He’s silent a moment, staring me down.

“She also got her own revenge, if I recall.”

I smirk. Yes, she did. Watching her stab Aurelio in the dick with that poker was the only good thing about that day. “Didn’t kill him, though, so he’s still a threat to her.”

“No, he’s not dead. He’s been in an induced coma for the past week and will stay that way for awhile until he heals.”

“Is that medically necessary or because you don’t want to deal with him?”

Vin’s eyebrows twitch in irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me from the start that Siena was Franco’s sister?”

“Why didn’t you tell me from the start that you’re setting up Aurelio?” It’s just a guess, a stab in the dark at why he was recording Aurelio committing a murder, a video I found on the flash drive Siena was hiding. A video I must have watched a thousand times this week trying to figure out its significance.

The way his jaw tightens tells me I hit the nail on the head.

Vin frowns. “It’s bad for business to fuck an associate’s family member.”

“It’s bad for business to take out a boss without a solid plan and not tell your partners about it,” I retort. “And Franco’s not an associate. He’s a fucking corrupt cop.”

“He’s erratic,” Vin states. “And I was going to tell you. I just wasn’t sure….” His shoulders slump, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

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