Page 93 of Hostile Love
She makes a weird face at him. “Like you didn’t know that already.”
They both fall quiet for a second and I just stand before them, a bit shocked by their awkward yet mildly amicable interaction.
Tomás nods once and moves away. He orders the soldier beside him to have firefighters on standby in the elevator lobby—and to update Giovanni.
“Tell us when they’ve found her,” Dani adds, tucked into my side where she belongs.
“I’ll let you know,” I hear Carina call, muffled by Tomás’ height. “I promise.”
“Is that concern I hear, Daniela?” Tomás voice slips over his shoulder, the tone almost playful. “ForanotherSouza.”
“She has a likable quality,” Dani replies, barely audible. “You must have missed getting the gene for that one.”
What the fuck?
These two are having back and forth, poker-faced banter.
At the door, Tomás glances back, his expression blank.
“You’d better get offsite before you’re compromised and all that good work of yours lands you in prison, Daniela.”
Good work? Did my untrusting big brother just praise my untrusting girlfriend?
Puzzled by their strange conversation, I grab my balaclava from the stairs and roll it on. Scooping up Dani’s from the corner, I put it on the crown of her head, fixing it over her pretty face.
I walk towards Tomás, but move around him to kiss Carina on the cheek. He stiffens immediately and I smile inwardly. What are sister-in-law’s for, if not to be used as a way to taunt my brothers?
“Once things have settled, we’ll talk, Matheus. With the wedding coming soon and our family under threat...” Tomás narrows his eyes. “We need to show our enemies that the Souzas never back down. There’s a change of plan.”
27
DANIELA
Leaving the helipad, we were met by armed soldiers who escorted us inside the guarded Sicilian mansion.
They led us to a deep burgundy salon directly off the reception hall where a huge stone fireplace covered one wall and a mahogany bar was topped with marble and cut crystal tumblers.
A middle-aged guy sat in a low-slung velvet armchair, waiting for us.
He stood immediately and introduced himself as the on-call doctor, which wouldn’t have been apparent given his beige chinos and fine knit pullover. He shook both of our hands, with a nervousness to his smile.
The way his mousy brown mustache had twitched, and his eyes darted over his shoulder to where the armed guards stood, told me this man wasn’t exactly invited.
Apparently, Tomás had arranged for his visit and told him two patients needed treatment.
I’d be flattered if I didn’t feel so weird about it.
Matheus made me go first, even though I demanded he should be examined before me. My injuries were visible whereas he could have had internal bleeding, or fuck knows what.
The doctor is very thorough in his assessment of my wrist. Pointing out the swelling and limited movement probably meant it was broken.
However, he couldn't say for sure.
I’d need an x-ray at the hospital to confirm broken bones. It should heal quickly, though, and a few physical therapy sessions would make it fully functional again.
While he shines a light in my eyes to rule out concussion and tests my reflexes, Matheus' hawkish gaze burns into me.
The doctor manipulates my shoulder and I suck in through clenched teeth, biting back a few swear words. Matheus sits upright, clearly uncomfortable by my pained reaction.
