“Good afternoon, Mrs.

Varela,” the driver said in a clear, professional voice.

“The climate control is set the way you like it, and Mr.

Reed asked me to assure you the main gates are secured.”

Doña Victoria’s sneer faltered, and her mouth stayed slightly open as she stared at the driver.

Alejandro adjusted his watch strap, his eyes fixed on the gold Varela family crest on the driver’s lapel pin and the dark custom privacy glass of the car.

The driver took my canvas bag from my hand, placed it carefully in the trunk, and held the heavy rear door open for me.