Page 30 of Be With Me
Her grid was full of food shots, artsy cropped photos of New York, and outfit pics. Lots and lots of them. She dressed her clients in all kinds of wild shit, but her own style was more subdued. Especially in the last year. She was dressing for the campaign now. For her father’s voters.
If I had to guess, she was counting down the days until it was over.
That girl wanted to be in her studio. It wasn’t just a workspace for her. It was her temple, her sanctuary. I’d felt it the second I stepped inside. She’d spend all her time there if she could.
Her business meant a lot to her. But her father meant more.
That’s why I wasn’t sure if she’d take my offer.
It had been a few days, and she hadn’t contacted me.
Fine. I just had to work harder to uncover more of the secrets she hid beneath that polished do-gooder facade. Eventually, I’d find another way in.
Whoever handled security for the Morales campaign should be fired. Mia’s location was tagged in almost every photo. If I wanted to piece together her schedule, I could do it with ease. She was practically begging to be stalked.
Didn’t her father realize how reckless that was? He wasn’t stupid. He knew we were dangerous.
So what made him so confident she was safe? Pure arrogance, perhaps?
Outside, thunder cracked.
My gaze snapped to the window. The rain hadn’t started yet, but it would soon. I hated the sight of it. The way the droplets would slither down my floor-to-ceiling windows like slow-moving tears.
I got up and yanked the blinds shut.
Returning to my nightstand, I downed the rest of my drink. Another few minutes of scrolling brought me to the bottom of Mia’s feed.
Her first post. She was fifteen, maybe sixteen. Four girls posed in front of the backdrop of Valais Academy, that snobby Swiss prep school.
Mia. Fabi. Nina. And a fourth I didn’t recognize.
I had first discovered Mia and my cousin were also friends when I looked into her after Cosimo’s engagement party. But I still hadn’t called Nina to fish for intel.
Maybe it was time.
She picked up on the third ring. “Rom. I was wondering when I’d hear from you.”
My lips quirked. Nina and I barely saw each other these days. Long gone were the summers we spent together as children, playing board gamesin her parents’ basement. It used to drive her insane when I cheated. Which I did. Constantly.
She was bossy, sharp, and no-nonsense, traits that hadn’t faded with time.
If she suspected I was up to something, she’d warn Mia to stay the hell away from me.
“Let me guess,” I said, leaning back against the headboard. “Mia already told you I stopped by her studio.”
“Yes. And I won’t tell you a damn thing about her if that’s why you’re calling. The women who land in your crosshairs typically end up depressed, fleeing the country to ‘find themselves,’ or filing for divorce. I’m not signing Mia up for any of that.”
My brow arched. “Who’s filed for divorce?”
“That footballer player’s wife you had on your arm at Black Silk the one time I was there.”
I wasn’t aware. I didn’t keep tabs on old flings. “You know her?”
“We have some friends in common. Rumor is things at home went downhill the moment you entered the picture.”
Sounded about right. I excelled at many things, but there was one thing I discovered a long time ago I was particularly good at—destroying people’s lives.
Sometimes, I barely even had to try.
