Damon's POV
He didn't hesitate. "They've been moved, sir. Not at the old house. They're in the city now."
The city. The term was like a hand upon my neck. "Why move them into town? Why should Leo take them out in the open?
I do not know what his reason is, sir, the guard said. "Could be protection. Could be something else. I will keep the movement patterns moving and draw all we can out of this evening and tomorrow. I will check cameras, logistics, his acquaintances.
"Good." I saw him walk out of the control room, saw the monitors blinking. Leo had a reason. Every action that he took had a purpose. I had to know what.
I went directly to my suite and turned on the shower and made it hot until I felt more like a man with options rather than a boy with chest full of fear. Water does not erase memories, it clears the mind. I dressed quickly. There wasn't time to dwell.
A pile of papers awaited me in the research: the oil and gas business that I had purchased. When I purchased the company, it was already in failure, bad contracts, bad leadership, bad timing. Perfect. There is leverage in issues such as that. I read balance sheets until the figures ceased to be figures and began to be instruments. I took notes on how the company would be saved with the correct investor, how a government bailout would place me at the Hayes board with credibility. I was strategizing the little conversation I would apply, the casual remarks that would get them to open doors to me.
A guard came in with a letter. "Hayes mailed again, sir."
I looked at the envelope, the official seal. "Ignore it. I am not meeting them till tomorrow, not today.
He nodded and left. I returned to the files, circling contracts I would renegotiate, practicing how to sound casual enough to be trusted. All the handshakes would be timed. Each compliment would conceal an advantage.
A second guard came in without knocking. He had a tablet and a look I did not like.
His opening his casino to-night, said Leo.
I didn't move for a heartbeat. "Guest list," I said.
He handed the tablet over. I scrolled through the names. The former half were the common ones: developers, two politicians, the smiling-at-charity wives. The second part was a list of appetite and discretion--men who bought private views, women who made private nights. Dealers, collectors, those who never inquired of where pleasures were to be found.
It clicked then, cold and hard. Leo was not taking Sophie and Ethan to the city to protect them. He was taking them to places where they would wish to go. He was taking them to a stage.
The fact that the photo of my siblings was there, naked and in a state of terror, on the display of men who treated people like objects was crawling on my skin. I tasted bile. I could feel the old, slow anger knotting about my ribs.
"Get me an invite," I said. "Casino opening. After-party. Everywhere he'll be. I want access."
The guard did not respond instantly. They are blocking the access, sir. It's invite only. No outside entries. They are maintaining the list as secret.
I rose and went to the window. Blackridge was a million little lies. Individuals passed through the light as they possessed the world. Leo was sure that he could take my family to that light and make them a show.
"Find a way in," I said. "Use whatever channels. Call in favors. Bribe. Fake credentials. Press passes. I don't care how. Get me in. Tonight."
He stammered, and uttered the word that paralyzed my tongue half a moment. "But--"
I turned. "But?"
"We couldn't get an invite. Not through normal channels." He placed the tablet aside and looked me in the eye. "There's a weak point. Somebody in there we could use.
"Who?" I asked.
He turned his head, as though he did not want to say it. "Aria Blackwood."
I almost laughed. "Leo's sister? What does it get us to use her get us an invite?
It is her who arranged the event, he said. She did the majority of arrangements--guests, performers, special arrangements. When you can get her on your side, and charm her, she can add a late guest. One of those favors to a friend, an afterthought. It's risky. She is egocentric and yet likes individuals who adore her.
Aria Blackwood. Leo's sister. I recalled the smeary photographs: a face that was of a woman who had been brought up in privilege, a bit dangerous. She had a hand to run the opening, and she had appetite,--to get attention, to be flattered, to be controlled. She could be the door.
"How do we find her?" I asked.
"Already on it, sir." The guard tapped his tablet. I will have a group of people follow her. We will see where she is, who she has to do with. We will make it appear natural in case you wish to meet her in a natural way.
I thought about the angle. Charm. A casual meeting. Make her feel special. Give me a key, and do not know why.
"Track her," I said. "I'll get ready. Appear to be an organic meeting. No forced introductions. Keep it natural."
He nodded and left. I sat down again at the desk, and the plan worked in my mind. The opening would be the weakness of Aria. My charm would be the bait. I would be cautious--welcoming, non-menacing, as though a man had just come back to the city, another investor, another philanthropist.
I passed through the motions of getting ready--shave, suit, calm my breathing. I practiced phrases in my mind: little compliments, taste questions, a reference to the arts, a common view on a charity. Make her feel that she was special. Then ask for the favor.
My guard was back sooner than I thought. He paused at the door, gasping in a manner which I had only witnessed when men were excited when successful.
"We found her, sir," he said.