Chapter 4: The Locks

I went to work on Tuesday morning anyway.

Dario had shown me Marco's text, and I wanted to watch it happen.

My badge did not open the employee door at the Meridian.

I held it to the reader three times.

The light stayed red, and a woman from human resources came out of the hallway with a cardboard box already in her hands.

"Ms. Prestia, I'm so sorry," she said. "The owner's office has put you on leave."

"Which owner?"

"Mr. Iannucci. Senior."

She did not look at me when she said it.

I had spent four years on the events floor, learning which florist cried and which bride bribed.

I carried the box out through the front lobby in full view of the morning shift.

Nobody said a word to me.

Two of the dealers touched their chests as I passed, which was the only goodbye they were allowed.

I was standing on the curb with the box when a black F-150 pulled up and Luca got out.

He did not ask what had happened.

He took the box out of my hands, set it in the truck bed, and opened the passenger door.

When I climbed in, his palm rested flat against the small of my back for one breath.

It was a warm weight through my blouse.

I felt it for the whole drive.

He did not turn on the radio.

He drove me to Henderson with his eyes on the road and one scarred hand loose on the wheel.

"He can't just do this," I said.

"He can," Luca said.

Then, after a mile: "Not for long."

That was more than he usually said in a day.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Their Father Called Me Family, So His Four Sons Made Me Theirs from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.