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My mind has been drown by her. Almost every thought results in it connecting back to her.
It took everything out of me to get up from bed earlier.
Luckily Alek was nearby so I didn't have to find out where he was. Donatella went off to Matteo's room so it's just my brother and I.
"Have you found anything on him?" I question.
He shakes his head, "Nothing. It's like he doesn't exist. But, I found some stuff on a guy named Romeo, forty-three, grew up in the US, about seventeen years he went underground."
"Okay, send me everything you get on him. I need to get going," I tell him.
With that said I go downstairs and to the garage. The garage holds a variety of sports cars and motorcycles that all are owned by me.
I pick a random car that happens to be the Ferrari Roma in all black, the garage light shines off the reflective paint. I turn on the ignition and pull out of the garage.
The path I hate to repeat every so often I follow. The mansion comes into view and I share a greeting with the guard armed outside the gate surrounding the house. The mansion's brick colors beige, the porch to the door arches over. I drive around the fountain and park on the corved driveway.
I lock the car and go up to the dark oak wooded doors. Instead of knocking I go ahead and open knowing he won't get up and answer the door himself. I follow the hall to the right passing by doors every few feet along the wall. The last door I open knowing it's his office.
Torrance wears his glasses low on his nose as he reads through a form in his hands. His elbows rest on the desk, his coffee mug steaming though it is a little after six. It is a rare occasion to ever see him without a beverage.
"Damien!" he beams when he looks up from the document to the doorway.
"Torrance," I nod my head slightly, reciting his last name.
Though I hate him for his 'parenting' techinques, I can't help but be greatful for giving my brother and I a second chance.
He stands up from his tan leather chair, turning to his coffee pot, "Would you care for a coffee?"
There was no point in him asking though, he was already pouring the brown liquid into the grey mug.
Torrance hands me the mug and I thank him.
He lowers back down to his chair, "What can I help you with, Damien?"
I pull the chair out from across the desk and sit back into the chair.
"I need everything you have from seventeen years ago," I tell him the reason I'm here.
He raises a brow but starts opening his drawers until he finds his tab for the year. He takes out the whole section, papers pile between the two blue folders.
