Page 36

"But I do," I choke. "If I had listened to you, you wouldn't have to… to… make deals with the mafia. I know how much your reputation means to you, Daddy. I'm so, so sorry. I should have listened to you. Been more careful, more vigilant… " I break off the quick avalanche of words rushing out of me.

"No, no, sweetheart, it's okay. I'm the one?—"

Antonio's expression is murderous when he takes the phone from me. "She's fine. Do you have any names yet?"

"Antonio?" I can still hear my dad's voice.

"No, the crown prince of Norway." Antonio snarks sarcastically. He looks so different from the man who just made sweet love to me, made me come three times—three times!—and assured me that I'm beautiful despite my scars.

The man talking to my dad on the phone is a stranger. This is a mob man, acting as I have always imagined a Cosa Nostra Don would look and act: cold, hard, brutal. Strangely, it neither scares nor repulses me. It's more the opposite. This controlling, powerful man gives me something I’ve never had: security. As contradictory as it sounds, I feel safe with him.

He's a killer,my mind reminds me. My mind is right, too, but again, the thought neither repulses nor worries me. I saw the carnage he and his men wrought at the warehouse they freed me from, but I'm not abhorred any longer. Those men deserved what they got. Every. Little. Bit. A deeply-buried part of me is growing and finding its voice; it’s even slightly put out that I wasn't able to avenge myself. That little voice should scare the shit out of me, but it doesn't. I wonder how much stronger I could get if I nurtured it?

Antonio's jaw is locked, and his eyes promise murder, though I can't understand why. Aren't he and my dad partners now? What is happening? I can't hear my dad's answer, but Antonio's expression only turns darker.

"She needs to rest now. I'll have her call you tomorrow."

I hold out my hands like a toddler in agimme, gimme, gesture. I need to speak to my father again.

Antonio's expression relaxes slightly, and he hands me the phone. "Only a few minutes."

Grateful, I press the phone to my ear like it's a lifeline. "Daddy?"

"I'm here, sweet girl. Everything is going to be fine, I promise, and you don't need to be sorry, okay? Ever. You are my sweet baby girl."

"I love you, Daddy."

There is a stuttering breath before he replies, "I love you too, Angel. More than you know. It's going to be okay. I promise. Is he treating you alright?"

Automatically, my eyes move to Antonio.More than alright. "Yes."

"Good, good. I'll do what I have to, and you'll be home in no time. You'll see." He promises. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. See you soon."

"Soon, sweetheart. I love you."

The line clicks. He hung up before I had a chance to tell him that I love him, too.

I hand the phone back to Antonio. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. You can call your dad anytime you want to. Just ask me, okay?"

Eagerly, I nod, wanting so much to believe.

"I haven't thanked you yet," I remember.

He looks startled, but then he smiles, and the smile lights up his entire face. Two dimples appear. Good grief, could this man be any hotter? My stomach flips, and my heart flutters like the wings of the sparrow he calls me.

He puts one knee on the bed, envelops my right cheek with his hand, and whispers. "I need to thank you."

Heat rises in my cheeks when I realize what he thinks I'm thanking him for.

"For saving my life," I clarify before I can stop myself.

His grin only deepens. "That was even more my pleasure." He replies smoothly.

His hand trails down my chin, traces the curve of my neck, then hovers over the swell of my breasts. My breath gets stuck in my throat. I swallow and pull together whatever clearness I still possess. "We need to talk."