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Chapter Twenty-Nine

MERRICK

Leaving Colette asleep in the bedroom, I tug on a pair of pants, shove my phone in my pocket, and slip out into the living area. I check the balcony, where I have a feeling I will find Grayson, and smirk at the sight of him. He’s exactly where I thought he would be.

Making my way over to the bar, I pour a glass of whiskey and grab both my glass and the bottle before I walk out onto the balcony and sink down in the chair beside his. Then I set the bottle on the table between us and let out a grunt.

“You are plotting something,” Grayson announces.

I snort, lifting my whiskey to my lips before taking a sip. “Why would you say that?”

He hums. “I saw it in your eyes earlier when Theron brought you back to the suite.”

He’s right.

Sometimes I fucking hate how well these men know me, but it’s a double-edged sword because I know them just as well. Just like I know that Grayson is brooding over something. He isn’t going to tell me what it is, but he’s brooding.

“I’m trying to get Colette pregnant as soon as fucking possible,” I state.

Grayson snorts out a laugh, shaking his head a couple times from side to side, but doesn’t look at me. He is focused straight ahead, his eyes looking out at the city lights. I hate New York, but this right here, the view of the city from this balcony, makes me dislike it a little less than I did inside the hotel room.

“Of course you are. Do you have a theory behind that?” he asks.

“Do you want to tell me what’s up your ass?” I ask instead of answering him.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat as he picks up the bottle of whiskey and pours himself some more. He leans back in his chair and tilts the whiskey glass to his lips to take a drink before he speaks. I’m not sure what I expect him to say, but I almost laugh because I don’t expect this.

“I think I might have done something pretty fucking stupid,” he states.

I wait in silence for him to continue. My focus is on him now and only him because Grayson is typically like the rest of us—calculated and logical. So, this can only mean one thing: it involves a woman. He’s the next one to fall, and I’m about to call out timber when he continues.

“It’s Nadine.”

I blink slowly, and then I clear my throat before I say anything. Nadine is much like Colette in the fact that she’s reserved, quiet, and shy as fuck. She’s not the same as Colette in the way that she won’t even look any of us in the eyes—almost as if she’s scared to death to be anywhere near us. I honestly cannot imagine how they got together.

“ Okaaaay . What’s the issue?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Her husband.”

And I have no fucking voice. Not a single sound escapes because I have no idea what to say to him. Husband. First of all, I can’t imagine someone like Nadine, in all her shyness, being married. Secondly, I really can’t imagine her cheating on said husband.

I open my mouth to ask him about the story because there must be a whole-ass fucking story when I hear a noise from the balcony next to me. Turning my head slowly, I see a man leaning over with a gun in his fucking hand.

“Down,” I bark.

We both hit the floor of the balcony at the same time, the bottle of whiskey shattering around us. Grayson crawls across the small space and reaches for the door. I’m not sure how fast it all happens, but I swear to fuck, it feels like it takes us hours to get into the room.

We flip the lock closed and also shut the curtains. I don’t bother waiting even a fucking second. When those curtains are closed, I’m on my feet and running toward the bedroom to check on Colette.

She’s fast asleep where I left her, but I know for certain now that we cannot stay here. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, I slowly turn to look back at Grayson. He hisses out a few choice words before his eyes meet mine.

“We’ll get her clothes somewhere else. We need the fuck out of here.”

“My father has a place in Florida,” Colette announces.

My whole body jerks because, just moments ago, she was asleep. I don’t know how the hell she got up so quickly and walked her ass out here without either of us hearing a goddamn thing.

Fuck.

But her mentioning Florida, how could I have forgotten about that place? It was where I initially installed the whole fucking surveillance system, but then he added on New York when I married Colette, keeping her hostage until I agreed to do it for fucking free. And I did just that because I didn’t want to deal with Bellucci’s bullshit.

“We can’t go there,” Grayson states. “We need to be here because this is where Ravet is.”

He’s right. I know he is, but my instinct to protect Colette overshadows what needs to happen. I know it does, too. She is the bait. I just don’t want her to be fucking dead bait in the process.

“I know,” I grumble. “But it can’t be in this hotel room, and we can’t stay in any other hotel under our names.”

Colette takes a step forward. She’s dressed in the same shirt she was in earlier, my shirt, but I know she’s going to need some more clothes. I’ve got to get working on that, as much as I want to keep her completely naked at all times.

She also needs shoes because right now, all she has are those stupid-as-fuck heels she was wearing with her wedding dress.

“I can call my father. He’s got to have somewhere we can go or at the least get us a room under a different name.”

As much as I don’t want to ask Adriano for a fucking thing, she’s right. We won’t make it out of this room alive without some help. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I hand it over to Colette to do just that. Ask goddamn Adriano Bellucci for fucking help.

COLETTE

My father picks up, likely because he thinks it’s Merrick calling. I suck in a breath when I hear his voice when he greets me, and something shifts inside of me. I realize that this is likely the last time I’m ever going to speak to my father. And at the same time, this man was willing to sell me to an absolute monster to get something he wanted.

I know he killed my mother. And I know he was not going to give a shit if I died the day after my wedding as long as it meant he got whatever political office he wanted. I know he is awful, and yet, I’m going to ask him for help.

I hate myself a little for it, too.

“Father, it’s Colette,” I rasp.

He is silent. That doesn’t surprise me. He didn’t want to hear from me. “As much as I don’t want to ask you for anything, we’ve been compromised, and we need a safe house while we take care of whatever it is you want us to take care of.”

More silence.

I almost laugh because clearly, he does not want to talk to me. I half expect him to tell me to hand the phone to Merrick, but to my surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat, and I hear him let out a cough.

“Marcello will be at your hotel in one hour. Go to the parking garage, not valet.”

“I need some clothes as well. Everything I had is gone.”

He grunts. “I will have the maid pack a bag of your things. But, Colette?” he asks.

“Father?”

“You are his now. And that is your identity.”

I almost laugh, but I decide against it, mainly because my father wants to feel like a big man, and it would be demeaning if I did. As much as I want to talk shit, I don’t. Instead, I tell him that I understand and thank him.

I end the call without waiting for his response. Slipping the device into Merrick’s waiting palm, I lift my gaze to meet his. He gives me a small smile, but I can tell it’s sad—for me. He doesn’t give a shit about my father. He’s probably ready to kill him today and would if he could.

I wouldn’t stop him, either.

I’ve suffered at my father’s hand for long enough.

“Marcello, my father’s man, will be here in an hour. He will meet us in the parking garage, not the valet.”

Merrick grips the phone. Then he gives me a single nod. “And he’ll have clothes for me as well. We just have to stay alive and get to the car.”

Grayson snorts. “They aren’t coming in here. We’re ready. Armed and waiting.”

So… we wait.

We finish packing everything and check the room for any evidence of our existence. But there is nothing. And then, we get the hell out of the hotel fifty minutes later. Marcello is waiting for us when we step out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

Merrick and I slip into the back seat, Grayson takes the front, and because Marcello wants to keep breathing, he says nothing to me and only speaks to either Merrick or Grayson. Both of which tell him to keep an eye on who is following us, if anyone.

After two hours of driving around the city, we arrive at a dumpy-looking building. There is a butcher and a dry cleaner on the first level with an apartment on the second. From the outside, it looks like it’s falling apart, but I know any safe house of Adriano Bellucci is going to be luxury, and I’m right.

Inside, it’s almost as nice as our limestone building. Almost, but not quite. Maybe I should be impressed that my father had me brought to his personal safe house. I’ve only been here once with him. All other times, we would just go to Florida or somewhere else. I wouldn’t know the location, not out of safety, but because he didn’t think enough of me to tell me.

Merrick and I take the master bedroom, while Marcello and Grayson take the other two bedrooms on the other side of the house. I can’t believe that this is real life. As I look around the bedroom, I can’t help but wonder what is truly to become of us.

“Bait or not, I will kill any man who dares to lay a fucking hand on you, Colette.”

I turn around to face Merrick. This man who I have fallen in love with. I believe him. But at the same time, I cannot let him do that. Taking one step toward him, then another, I close the distance between us.

I cup his cheeks as I tip my head back and look up into his eyes.

“I will never let you hurt someone else, Merrick. Not for me, not ever.”

He closes his eyes slowly as if relishing my touch. I know how he feels because I feel the exact same way when he touches me. When I slide my thumb across his bottom lip, he opens his eyes, and for a moment, I can read every ounce of his vulnerability.

“You’ve been through enough. Don’t add that to your soul.”