“Emma? Mr. Carrero wants to see you.” A small childish voice comes up behind me, causing me to flinch and drop my duster. My heart suddenly stops as I inhale heavily, pushing back my hair which is stuck to my face from the exertion of my enthusiastic cleaning, my eyes widening in disbelief. 

What? Jake? He’s here? 

My brain reels a moment with a lurch of possibility before sense smacks me in the chest sharply, kickstarting rapid heartbeats.  

No. Giovanni, of ...