Ramirez Gonzales.
“Sir, she’s finished her makeup. She picked out a dress yesterday, so I don’t expect her to spend much more time on it.” Manny says.
I point toward the chauffeur. “And you?”
“I’ve taken care of the cars. All the tires are slashed. She won’t be able to drive any of them.”
I rest my hand on my chin, a moment of silence settling between us as I think. If she can’t drive herself, she might just call Noah to pick her up in that rickety piece of junk he calls a car. Should I have someone torch it? No, even that won’t stop her. She’ll just grab a taxi, and it would take too much to burn them all down.
“Sir, is there anything else you want us to do—” Manny starts to ask.
“You know what? Lock her in her room.” I answer that.
Both Manny and Bezo exchange looks.
“You want
