Last Words (Morelli Family 7)

After dinner, Bella and Rosalie take turns distracting me. By the time I make it back to Mateo’s study, he’s gone. I shoot him a text to ask where he’s at, since that’s just simpler.

I go looking for Lily, next. Adrian helped me pick out a book for her while we were out earlier, but I don’t find her in her bedroom where she normally is.

I check my phone, but still no text back from Mateo.

Ugh, this house is too big.

I go back to his study on the off chance he went back there. No luck, but I decide to poke my head in his surveillance room and see if he’s inside. I’m not entirely sure I’m allowed in here. I’ve been inside once before, but with Mateo, and only for a minute.

His creeper room isn’t my favorite part of the house. The wall of surveillance monitors slightly intimidates me. A long time ago, it freaked me out that Mateo was always watching. Privacy doesn’t exist in this household. I’ve never wanted to hurt him, so it’s not like I ever needed privacy for anything sinister, but it has been inconvenient at times.

I’m pretty used to it now. What do I need privacy for? I’m not doing anything I shouldn’t be.

Well, right now I might be. He’s never specifically told me I’m not allowed in his security room, though. I don’t see why he’d have to hide anything from me now. I already know he pulled out all the stops. I expect he probably spied on me more than I knew about. I try not to think about it. It doesn’t matter anymore.

Being in here reminds me of Colette’s question, though. I don’t know if there’s surveillance on the dungeon, but this is a good opportunity to check. I take a seat in the black rolling desk chair and spin around, looking up at the glowing monitors. Most rooms are empty. Maria has retired to the servants’ quarters for the evening. Elise is in her pajamas, sitting on the couch, playing with West and chatting with Maria. No sign of Adrian. I check the monitors around that one, but they’re not organized to match the layout of the house. It takes me a minute of searching before I give up looking for Adrian’s suite. I don’t actually see any of the rooms up there. Maybe he turned the cameras off up there to give Adrian and his family some privacy.

No dungeon on any of those monitors. There’s a computer on the desk with various folders and icons. They don’t have clear names—CMV, OMV, MCA, folders spanning the last 5 years with various letter and number combinations. I consider clicking on one, but this feels very near an invasion of Mateo’s privacy.

I guess that’s a little silly, considering this is footage he keeps of the whole entire house. He certainly doesn’t respect anyone else’s privacy.

Still, this is his. I shouldn’t explore.

Spinning away from the temptation to snoop, I look up at the wall of monitors again.

“What are you doing in here?”

I jump, kicking the floor and spinning around to see Adrian standing by the door panel, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Looking for Mateo,” I tell him, feeling my cheeks warm.

Adrian cocks his head, taking a step closer. “Well, he’s not in the computer.”

I crack a smile. “Smartass. How long have you been standing there?”

With a shrug lacking in any apologetic properties, he says, “Wanted to see if you’d snoop.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I announce, suddenly relieved I resisted the urge.

“You get a gold star,” he deadpans.

“Your stealth has reached creepy levels,” I inform him. I didn’t even hear him slip inside the room with me.

“My stealth reached creepy levels long ago,” he remarks, lightly amused as he approaches the desk and checks the computer screen.

I quirk a disbelieving eyebrow. “Seriously? You don’t trust me? I didn’t see anything.”

“I know you didn’t,” he says, easily, as he clicks an icon and a box comes up, prompting him for a password. “Avert your eyes, Nancy.”

I sigh dramatically and cover my eyes with my hands. “This is ridiculous.”

He doesn’t answer and I sit there with my hands still over my eyes for another minute, waiting for him to tell me I can move them. He never does. Finally, I give up and move my hands. He’s perusing feeds.

Since he’s leaning right over me, I poke my index finger in his side.

“Ow,” he says,” flashing me an exaggerated pout. “Be nice to me.”

Even though he’s just teasing, my tummy roils with guilt. “I’m always nice to you. What are you doing?”

“Looking for your husband, what do you think I’m doing?”

I look at the monitor, but this is super boring. He checks empty rooms camera by camera, angle by angle. Spying should be more exciting than this.

“Are there cameras in the dungeon?” I ask, after a moment of silence.