Page 26 of Captive in His Castle (The Martinelli Wedding #1)
“And even if it was a free choice,” she continued, her tongue taking on a life of its own as her terror deepened and knots coiled tightly in her stomach, “it was just sex, and if you think I would ever agree to extending my time here just because you haven’t bored of having sex with me yet, then you are off your rocker.
Forget that I need to get home to my pregnant sister; I can’t wait to be free of this prison, and I can’t wait to be free of you .
You might not have been named for Dante Alighieri but you’ve brought me to hell, and when you set me free, hell will freeze over before I want to see you again. ”
As Callie poured vitriol from a tongue that felt as if it belonged to someone else, Dante’s features hardened to granite.
For the longest time, he did nothing but gaze at her with eyes that were the opposite of warm.
And then his top lip curled and, in a tone as cold as his stare, said, “Come with me.”
She folded her arms and lifted her chin with defiance. “Come where? Going to lock me in the dungeon until Sunday?”
For the very first time, he stared at her with loathing. “To my office. Your passport and phone are in my safe. You can have them now. I’m letting you go.”
He strode towards the door without another word.
It took a moment for Callie’s uncomprehending brain to connect with her feet. “What do you mean, you’re letting me go?” she demanded, hurrying to follow him.
“Exactly that.” Exiting the vaults into the library, he headed straight to the dining room, Callie quick-marching to keep up with him.
There, he spoke to Bernard, who was waiting for them to take their seats for dinner.
“Please notify all staff that Miss Thomas is allowed to leave the estate with immediate effect,” he said in English.
“Arrange for a car to take her to the town.”
Not waiting for a response from Bernard, Dante strode to the Leopold room. From there, he cut through to the adjoining reception room and, from that, took a door into a room Callie hadn’t been in before, a sprawling, orderly, fully modern office.
She stood at the doorway and hugged her knotted stomach tightly. The beats of her heart were echoing between her ears. “You’re letting me go now ?”
His reply was a curt, “Yes,” and he pressed his hand to one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases crammed with folders. It opened like a door to reveal an inbuilt safe that was nearly as tall as Callie. After turning the dial a number of times, it sprung open.
Working quickly, he removed her phone, passport and watch, and an ordinary letter sized envelope, the latter of which he held up to her. “Your ticket home. Your flight leaves Naples mid-afternoon on Sunday but can be exchanged for an earlier flight if you see sense.”
Placing her belongings on the desk, he then went back into his safe, reached into the back, and removed two wedges of cash, each tied with a band.
“This is ten thousand euros, more than enough to get you to Accardiano before the wedding. I would offer you a lift in my helicopter tomorrow, but I will not actively help you.” He met her stare with that bitter curl on his top lip.
“But neither am I prepared to let you leave here without the means to help yourself if you find yourself stuck.”
“Why would you do this?” she whispered, suddenly feeling cold. It was like all the fury that had carried her through what had turned into the bitterest of arguments had exhaled out of her. “You only brought me here because you said it was too dangerous for me to be anywhere near Accardiano.”
“And it is. You’re the one choosing not to believe me.
Choosing not to trust me. Because you don’t trust, do you, Callie.
You can’t bear to put your trust in anyone but yourself.
You don’t trust your sister to know what’s best for her and her baby, and you don’t trust me to know what’s best for my oldest friend.
You don’t even trust that I want you to stay for reasons that run deeper than sex. ”
She flinched, his words striking harder than any hand could have done.
His jaw somehow managed to clench even tighter.
“Niccolo is in debt to Lorenzo. Hundreds of millions in debt to him. If he abandons Siena before the wedding, that debt will be called in and Lorenzo will take control of all Niccolo’s business affairs.
If Niccolo is lucky, Lorenzo will consider that sufficient vengeance.
” The granite of his stare flickered with ice.
“No one gets lucky with Lorenzo Esposito. He is a man who believes in an eye for an eye with an ear taken for good measure. Siena is his pride and joy. His princess. The only thing he prizes above her is his honour, and if his princess is jilted on her wedding day, his honour and pride will both be hit, and he will seek vengeance on those who’ve wounded it.
If you’re lucky, he might decide to leave your sister alone. ”
Dante took in the ashen colour Callie’s face had now turned, and had to fight the swell of nausea that rolled in his guts.
To remember how barely an hour ago she’d blown his mind and his heart with her seduction only added to the sickness curdling him.
It hurt to even look at her. “If you leave now, you will have time to take a cab to Florence and catch the night train to Naples or the bullet train first thing in the morning. … hell, with that kind of cash, you’ll find a driver to take you directly to Accardiano.
You can be there before breakfast. You’re wily enough to think of a way to catch Niccolo’s attention, but if not, the wedding itself is taking place in the church of Santa Maria.
Position yourself well enough, and he will very likely notice you and be intrigued enough to speak to you. ”
“Why are you doing this?” she repeated.
He held the lock of their stares so she could feel the weight of his next words as well as hear them. “I’m putting the choice and all our fates, heaven, hell or purgatory, in your hands. Believe me or don’t, trust me or don’t, the consequences will be for you to live with.”
His phone range. He answered it with a terse, “ Ciao ,” listened a moment and then ended the call. “The car is ready for you. ”
But there was an uncertainty to her posture and expression. “You’re really letting me go?”
He breathed deeply and inclined his head. “Yes, Callie, I am really letting you go.” His gaze flicked to the door in a sign of dismissal. “You should change your clothes before you go. The nights here can still be chilly.”
Geppa must have been aware of what was going on, for Callie’s carry-on case was open on the bed.
Absently, she threw her original clothes into it – she would not take any of the stuff Dante had bought her – then changed into jeans and a sweater.
Her mind was reeling from everything that had taken place in the last few hours, barely able to comprehend how the headiest experience of her life had turned to dust and recriminations in the blink of an eye.
It was like they’d both been woken from the same sensual dream at the exact same point and drenched with the cold hard facts of their reality.
And their reality was that she’d only ever been with him in this castle against her will.
But when he’d asked her to stay… She could still feel the strength of her longing to say yes. It was a longing that had terrified her into silence.
Stockholm Syndrome. That’s all it had been. Stockholm Syndrome.
The only thing of reality that really penetrated the fog in her mind now was that she smelt of sex, and she snatched the bottle of perfume Dante’s sister had chosen for her from the dresser, unwrapped the packaging and drenched herself with it.
She took one last look in the mirror. The wash-in colour she’d dyed her hair with on a whim the night before she’d flown to Naples had faded. Another couple of washes and it would have faded for good. She wanted to tie it back, but her hair band was on the floor of the vault.
She walked the long corridor lined with Dante’s ancestors and tried to catch a breath. Everything inside her felt so tight .
The Leopold room was empty.
She closed her eyes and forced her legs to the ancient front door.
As her trembling fingers connected with the round handle, a deep voice called out from behind her. “All these years, you’ve been looking out for your sister and trying to protect her… Who’s been looking out for you? Who’s been there for you, Callie?”
The breath she managed to pull into her constricted lungs felt sharp. Painful. “Georgia has.”
“And now?”
Her chin wobbled, but she forced her voice to remain strong. “I’ll just have to look out for myself.”
She left the castle without looking back at him.
“What’s wrong?” Tullia asked when she answered Dante’s call.
That was the second time a woman had taken him aback within one evening. “Nothing. I just thought I’d call and see how you are.”
“Which you have never done before, so I ask again, what’s wrong?”
Hadn’t he? He was in frequent contact with his sister. They messaged each other numerous times a day, normally with silly memes to make each other laugh.
“Is it your house guest?” she asked into the silence, somehow making house guest more pointed than it should warrant .
“No,” he answered after a beat too long. “Anyway, she’s gone.” And the castle that usually breathed noise had fallen silent.
“Right… Gone where?”
Probably to Accardiano to put his best friend in the gravest danger.
He could only hope that she would see sense before it was too late and finally trust his word on the danger of telling Niccolo. But if she didn’t…
Either way, she was right. Niccolo did deserve to know he was going to be a father to Georgia’s baby before he committed to marriage with another woman. The person best placed to tell him, though, was Dante.
Damn it, it was like being stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. Whatever he did or didn’t do, someone was going to get hurt, and if telling Niccolo put Georgia in danger… if his friend felt a fraction for Georgia as Dante did for her sister, he would never forgive him for it.
Because Georgia was right too. Niccolo couldn’t be told until after the wedding.
Dante’s closest friend had an impulsive, reckless streak.
If he knew Niccolo, his instinct would be to get the first flight to England, and he would act on that instinct without thinking of the consequences.
It was Niccolo’s reckless, impulsive streak that had got him into this whole damn mess with Lorenzo Esposito.
But keeping it from him… was he any better than Callie in thinking he knew what was best for Niccolo?
Ultimately, the choice was Georgia’s to make, and she’d made it.
His mind suddenly zoomed back to Callie. There was no if about what she was doing. She was on her way to Accardiano. On her way to a potential lion pit…
And he had let her go there. He’d given her the damn money to get herself there !
He blinked hard.
What the hell had he been thinking?
Was he really so arrogant that he’d believed sharing paradise in his bed would mean Callie would forget how she’d come to be there, or if not to forget it but to forgive it? And had her furious rejection of him injured his pride to the extent that he would allow her to endanger herself…?
Fuck .
Why the hell would she trust him about anything when his first moments with her had been a lie?
As much as it hurt his heart to imagine his oldest friend hurt, it made his heart turn into ice to imagine Callie endangered. If so much as a hair on her stubborn, beautiful head was hurt…
Fuck !
He couldn’t just go tearing after her and demand that she keep Niccolo in the dark after all. Not now. He’d told her she needed to let Georgia live with the consequences of her choices. Callie deserved the same freedom. He should never have taken her freedom from her.
He straightened.
He couldn’t – wouldn’t – stop her, but he could protect her from any fallout. He could do that. He had the means. Protect Niccolo too. And Georgia and the baby if it came to it. Protect them all.
“Dante? Are you still there?” his sister asked.
“Yes,” he dragged out as his fractured thoughts coalesced into a coherent plan. Then, in a stronger voice, added, “I need to go. I’ll be in Accardiano as soon as I can.”