I was by the front door, putting on my shoes.A shadow fell over me.Victor.He was standing in the doorway, his body blocking the exit.His pale gray eyes stared at me.Like he was afraid I'd vanish.His voice was low, a demand, "Where are you going?"I said, my voice flat, my eyes down, "There's a trauma conference at Mount Sinai today. I have to be there."He stared at me for a long moment.Finally, his shoulders relaxed.He grabbed his keys before I could argue, "I'll drive you."I didn't fight it.I just opened the door and walked to the black armored Maybach.The car smelled of him.Stale cigars and a faint hint of gunpowder.The air was thick.Suffocating.Victor drove one-handed.His eyes were on the road, but I could feel him watching me out of the corner of his eye.We hit the main road.He tried to sound casual, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, "You hate Valerie, don't you?"He was waiting for me to lose it.To scream about that woman like I used to.He wan
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