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“I liked you more than I was willing to admit, even to myself.”
    His expression grew tender. “The feeling was mutual, sweetheart.”
    They kept walking, and Isabel leaned her head against his arm as the rhythm of the waves soothed her frantic thoughts. The rush of them speeding up the sand, the gentle withdrawal back into the sea. It was hypnotic, and she took a deep breath and said what was on her mind.
    “We can’t do this forever. Diego is up to something, and whatever it is, we’re not going to like it when it plays out. He’s keeping you close for some reason when he has every reason to kick you out of the house — or worse.”
    Luca nodded, letting her take her time. She loved that about him. The way he always seemed to know when she was thinking out loud. The way he let her take as long as she needed to get her thoughts out, circling back to the point she was trying to make. Sometimes she even thought he knew what she wanted to say ahead of time. But he never said it for her. He waited patiently, letting her find the words in her own time and then acting like it was all new to him.
    “He’s not a good man,” Isabel continued. “I know it’s true. But I can’t have him killed. I’ve thought about it over and over again, and I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself. It would be a dishonor to the memory of my parents, and I’d never be able to look Sofia in the eye again knowing that I was the one who okayed Diego’s death. He’s our blood, for better or worse.”
    “I understand,” Luca said, kissing the top of her head.
    “The other thing — setting Diego up with Lorenzo Sanchez — is an option.” She laughed a little as Luca looked down at her in surprise. “You don't think I know about Lorenzo?” She continued without waiting for his answer. “I keep quiet, but I listen. I probably know as much about the business as Diego.”
    “That could be useful,” Luca said.
    “Maybe, but I also know enough to understand how conflict among rivals is resolved, and that makes it feel too much like an execution.” She paused, searching out the woman and child in the waves. She was carrying the toddler to shore, the child’s dark hair curling around its cherubic face like a little Botticelli angel. “I guess I could live with it if I had to, but it’s still not my first choice.”
    “I hear you,” Luca said. “And to be honest, it’s not my first choice either. Sanchez isn’t exactly a pussycat. We’re talking Columbian cartel. I’m not in a hurry to put you and Sofa on his radar.”
    She drew in a breath. “Which means there’s only one thing left.”
    He squeezed her hand. “We have to find the video.”
    She nodded. “We have to find the video.”

8
    A week after his meeting with Farrell, Luca entered Diego’s office to find Marco sitting with two other men in front of Diego’s desk. He entered the room and gazed at his old friend dispassionately, careful not to register any kind of familiarity.
    “Ah, good,” Diego said, puffing on his cigar and not getting up. “Luca. These are our new guards, Eduardo, Marco, and John.”
    Luca nodded and held out his hand. He was relieved to see that Marco’s expression was entirely blank. Keeping him here — and alive — would rely on them maintaining the same relationship Luca would have with Eduardo and John, at least outwardly.
    “Luca is my head of security,” Diego said. “He will speak to you about your pay, the job requirements, and the rules of the house.”
    It was the first time Luca realized Diego kept all his guards under close watch. The other guards had lived on the premises under Hector’s leadership, but Luca had never been sure if it was optional. He’d planned to get his own place when he came to Miami. Then Diego had offered him a room in the house, and Luca had made the mistake of thinking it was temporary. Now they would all be under one roof, just as they’d been when Hector was in charge, and Luca