Page 18 of Broken Princess

"Because I'm not an idiot, and you're a shit liar," I blurt out.

His eyes widen, but he doesn't lash out, as would probably be the appropriate response. I take a second to recover, standing back from the desk.

"I see," he says in a guarded yet thoughtful tone, tapping his fingers on the desk. "And why is it you're so interested in what happens to my daughter, Lorenzo? The one youaren'tengaged to."

I swallow the knot tightening in my throat. No going back now.

"Because I love Amelia," I answer, surprised at how easily the words come out even though they have the potential to destroy everything.

Not anything that matters, though. And that's what's on the line the way things are now.

His expression doesn't shift much, but I can see it in his eyes. He might have suspected something, but he certainly didn't expect me to come out and say it.

Well, that makes two of us.

"You what?" His voice is as stilted and cold as the rest of him.

"You heard me," I mutter. "I'm not in love with Kayleigh, I'm in love with Amelia, and I don't care if you're content to sit on your ass and pretend like she's nothing to you. She's everything to me, and Iwillfind her, so either help me or get the fuck out of my way."

More silence. More blank staring. More wasted time.

I'm about to storm out of the office—or grab him by the throat—and I’m still not sure which when he narrows his eyes and answers.

"We're going to discuss this later," he says through his teeth. "Make no mistake about that, but for the moment, you have a point. Time is of the essence, and I just received a phone call."

"About Amelia?" I ask impatiently.

He nods. There's something in the solemn demeanor he has that puts me on edge. "Yes. About Amelia. She's been kidnapped."

My heart bottoms out into my stomach. It's nothing I haven't already feared was happening, but to have it confirmed is another matter entirely.

"She what? By who?" I demand. "This is your fault, isn't it? Whoever it is took her to get to you."

He frowns, but he doesn't deny it. "Milo Berlusconi. He's an old friend.Was. We had a falling out some years ago, and it was... ugly."

"How ugly?" I demand.

He hesitates. "I thought he was dead. Let's just put it that way."

I groan, raking a hand through my hair. "So you fucked this guy over and now he has Amelia. Just fucking great. Where the hell is he?"

"In Las Vegas," he answers, taking out his phone and placing it on the table.

I snatch the phone and look at the screen, immediately noticing the green blip on some kind of radar. "This is her location? He just sent this?"

"He wants to meet," he answers, standing from the desk.

"You know this could be a trap, right?" I ask. "She might not even be there."

"It had crossed my mind, yes," he says in a dry tone. "But seeing as he's the only lead on her location, I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

I snort, handing him back the phone. "No. You don't."

If he didn't plan on going himself, I'd just be driving to Vegas with him tied up in the trunk, but I guess he's not as much of a useless coward as I feared.

"I was planning arrangements for the trip shortly before you came," he continues. "I assume you're going to insist on coming along."

"Damn right," I say before I can stop myself. Not that I'd be inclined to bother. Not when Amelia's life is at stake.

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