Page 9 of Power
I got caught up in the cyclone that’s Luciano Santini.
As she drove toward home, she vowed, “Never again.” But she wondered if she’d be able to keep her distance. She’d had a taste of him and she wanted another.
Not to mention he owes me one.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Without a doubt, she would definitely be interested in collecting on that.
2
THE TERRORISTS
LUCIANO
As his driver sped toward the airport, Luciano scrolled through the unread texts. His brother, Gabriel, had sent several cryptic ones, then Teddy had sent a few of his own before he’d started calling.
Luciano had turned on Do Not Disturb.
“For a fucking reason,” he ground out.
“Say what?” Teddy asked.
“Talking to myself.”
“You do that a lot, you know.”
“What am I walking into?” Luciano asked as he closed the privacy screen. Though he trusted his driver, Stuart, the less he knew, the better.
“Gabriel called,” Teddy began. “Three terrorists on the No-Fly List from the Haqazzii terror cell were detained at Heathrow. They were five minutes from boarding a flight to Dulles. Scotland Yard detained them, but Gabriel is having them moved. They’re traveling under legit US passports with aliases.” Teddychecked the time on his phone. “You’re cutting it close, which is why I had to, um, step in.”
“I’ll finish what I started when I get back.”
“You shouldn’t even be talking to her,” Teddy said.
“Weweren’ttalking.”
Teddy chuffed out a laugh before running his hand through his long, blond hair. “No, you weren’t.”
The brothers grew silent as the sedan sped toward the airport, then over to general aviation. Luciano extended his hand. When Teddy clasped it, Luciano said, “Join me. You love roughing up the bad actors.”
“No thanks,” Teddy replied.
His brother hadn’t stepped on an airplane in years, and not even taking out known terrorists would change his mind.
The back door opened. Luciano exited the vehicle, and Stuart handed him his laptop satchel and a black leather duffle bag. “Safe travels, sir.”
Luciano entered the building, made his way to the check-in counter. “Suzie, working the late shift again.”
“Mr. Santini, hello.” Her round face flushed crimson.
Minutes later, Luciano walked onto his private jet and said hello to his pilots.
“Are we waiting for anyone else?” the co-pilot asked.
“No.”
“How long will we be there?” asked the pilot.
“Two hours, three tops,” Luciano replied.
