Page 13

CHAPTER 13

NICK

My business line rings. It’s one that I use for all business calls, and it’s the one that would be most likely to undergo surveillance.

I read the name. Bloody hell.

“Massimo,” I answer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your employee murdered my brother, yet you’ve been quiet.”

“Please let me express my deepest condolences for your loss.”

“Fuck you.”

Goddamn Neanderthal . “Massimo, I had no involvement in your brother’s death. Be rational. Your brother was certifiable. An unstable twat. Yes, my employee killed him, but in self-defense.” I pause for effect. “But I am sincerely sorry for your loss. I hope you received the flowers I sent and the donation to the church.” Quiet my fucking ass.

“Your contribution is most appreciated.”

Doesn’t sound like it.

A beat of silence passes. I wait. He called. “And Willow? You held one of ours.”

What the fuck? “First, we didn’t hold Willow. She married Leo, and that marriage, as I understand it, received your blessing.”

“Yet I wasn’t invited to the ceremony. Did you not find that odd?”

“Bloody hell, mate. What do you want? I had jack shit to do with that marriage. If I were to guess, she married Leo to avoid marrying your psychotic brother who was also what, forty or fifty years older? Look, you do you, but to me, that’s cocked. If you’re seeking to cast blame, look elsewhere, mate. I had fuck all to do with it.”

“Yet you now have the cousin. Are you looking to marry her?”

“Why the hell would you think that?”

“You’ll send her back?”

“Massimo. Let’s be clear. I do not work for you. As for Gagliano’s niece, she’s not your property. She is a guest in my home. If you have an issue with Scarlet, call her. Not me.”

“You’re innocent in this, are you?”

“Innocent in what?” Bloody fucking wanker.

“Harboring her.”

“She’s not a refugee. She’s a woman with free will.”

“Send her home. She belongs with us. Send her home, or there will be retribution.”

He did not just threaten me.

“Massimo, I don’t permit threats.” My fingers tap out a beat on the desk. These fuckwads don’t get it.

“Send her home, and we’ll be good.”

“Will we now? Because you see, that also sounds like a threat. Do you really want the weight of the syndicate crashing down on you?”

“All for a girl?”

“All on principal. Do not threaten me. Ever.”

I end the call. That won’t be the end, but I bought a few days for him to stew.

If Massimo called me, does that mean Gagliano has called Scarlet? Has she told her uncle she’s not returning? It’s one thing to defy her mother, but has she defied her boss?

I leave the office in search of the strong-willed beauty. Obviously, Scarlet will remain under my protection from the thugs. It’s a good job we’re cutting those bastards off at the knees. Threatening me. The chap’s not the brightest.

Of course, he’s unaware I’ve traced his theft. I don’t want it getting out. Makes me look weak. But when I visit him in prison, I’ll be certain to let him know he didn’t pull off the perfect heist. Bastard thought he could hack one of my shell companies and walk away unscathed. He’s no idea I’ve traced it to him. But he will.

I find Scarlet in the stable, head bent, talking to a stable hand who came with the estate. He’s in his twenties, fit, and loves horses more than money. The chap’s name is Thomas or Ben or something ordinary. His head is bent, and her hand is on his shoulder.

I slow my steps, watching. Their voices are low and indistinguishable.

He brushes a hand over his forehead, and as he does so, he picks up on me in his periphery and jerks straight. He nods and sods off to a stall, pitchfork in one hand, like an unruly boy caught red-handed in the ginger snaps.

A smile brightens Scarlet’s face upon seeing me, and she joins me in the breezeway.

“Making friends?” I shouldn’t ask, but I do. It’s my fucking property.

“I overheard his phone conversation. Ben’s going through a tough spot.”

“How so?”

“He’s overdrawn on credit. His wife’s worried they may lose their flat.”

“Is that right?”

“He might not want me telling you that.”

“Mum’s the word.” That’s a phrase I haven’t used in eons. The guy told her he’s married and broke. He’s not hitting on her. I guess I read him wrong. And what about Scarlet? She’s empathetic to someone in a tight spot. I suppose I should be, too. I’ll have Ash look into his situation, see what we can do.

Scarlet looks at me expectantly. I did come out here to find her, but I don’t want to talk where we might be overheard.

“Fancy a walk?”

She nods, and together we stroll toward the garden by the main house.

“Got a call earlier,” I say, side-eying her. Can I trust her?

“I imagine a man like you receives many calls.”

“From Massimo De Luca.”

She comes to an abrupt stop and scans the grounds like she expects men to leap out of the shrubbery and tie her down.

“Are you sending me back?”

“I told you I won’t.” I keep my word. “ You’ve gotten a call, too. Who?”

“Who called me?” she asks, wrapping her middle with her arms. She drops her head and resumes the forward motion. I barely nod in response. Scarlet understands the question, and this is her buying time. “My mother called a couple of days ago. I told you.”

“She the only one?”

“I spoke to Orlando today, but I called him.”

“What have you told them?”

“They both know I hate our life. They suspect I’m hoping to never return home.”

Never, huh?

“Has the investigation started?”

“No.”

Questions and worry fill her deep green eyes.

“If Massimo had any inkling of the impending storm, our conversation would’ve gone differently.” Might not’ve been a conversation at all.

“Right,” she says.

“He sees you as his property. But if he knew what you were about, I don’t think he’d bother with a call.”

“Orlando said someone would be sent to retrieve me.”

“Is that right?”

I need to meet with Ash and review plans for further increasing security on the grounds.

There’s a bench up ahead, and I gesture to it, asking her to sit for a bit. It’s a cloudy day with a nip in the air, but there are blue patches between the clouds, and the faint scent of burning wood lingers from some cleanup work the grounds crew did earlier this morning.

Scarlet takes a seat on the bench, quiet. Intriguingly so.

“So what else did the young Gagliano say?”

“That he’s committed to the family.”

“Did he question your loyalty?”

She snorts. “He knows I’m not loyal. When the investigation begins, he’ll be the first to pin me as the culprit.”

“Have you asked him to leave? To join you?”

“Many times. He won’t. He’s his father’s son.”

“Can’t fault a man for being loyal to his father.”

Her nose scrunches as if she’s tasted something rotten.

“You disagree?”

“You don’t know these men.”

“Don’t I?”

Her eyes narrow with pointed evaluation. In this light, there’s a blue tint.

“Are you dangerous?”

What a question . “I pose no risk to you.”

“I meant, are you a bad man? Do you kill when it suits you?”

So that’s her biggest issue with the family she was born into. Not the drugs. The tendency to murder. I lean forward, letting my forearms rest on my thighs, and risk a side glance when I answer. “I’m no different from you.”

“Earlier, when I offered to return the favor, is that why you said no?”

Now it’s my turn to snort. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

She arches an eyebrow.

“It’s not fear I was feeling back there.”

She dips her head.

“Did being touched…did it bring back memories?” That’s how I interpreted her tears.

“Are you asking if your touch reminds me of being raped?”

“Well, if you’re going to be straight up about it.”

“There’s no shame in being raped, and I won’t be made to feel that there is. Ask me anything you want to know.”

“All right.” Didn’t aim to get her riled. A tiny ant passes by, climbing a blade of grass, then dipping lower out of sight. “Did he rape you often?”

“No.” She looks off to the horizon. “Vincent got off on scaring others. He wasn’t a particularly sexual person. Our wedding night…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head as if she’s having a conversation with herself. “It didn’t take me long to realize that what he got off on was fear. If I didn’t show fear, he didn’t get aroused. There would be no rape. But then, depending on what he’d had to drink or god knows what else…that would turn into rage. I suspected there was someone else because he would go months without paying me any mind. And then, out of the blue, kabam. I expected he would kill me one day, so I acted.”

“Good on you.”

“Exactly.”

“I have zero tolerance for a man hurting a woman. Abuse is a no-go for me. I’ll never hurt you. You get that, right? While you’re under my protection, no man shall hurt you.”

“Human.”

“Come again?”

“Another human. The women in my life haven’t been particularly wonderful. Except Willow.”

We sit there, silently on the bench, watching the occasional bird flying overhead.

“I miss Willow.”

I raise an arm and catch her eye, sure to gain her approval before I wrap my arm around her slender frame and pull her snugly against me.

“She’s in a better place,” I tell her, then place my lips against her crown. She shifts, and I place my lips against her temple, then her forehead. It’s like I can’t bloody stop.

“Have you ever lost someone you loved?”

“I have,” I admit, not wanting to think about my family.

“Your parents. Is that why you’re so protective of Lina?”

“Lina’s not well. She seems right, I’ll grant you. But I fear she’s not. She needs protection.”

“From herself?”

“Obviously. I’ve got security for anyone else.”

“You can’t protect someone from themselves. She’s the only one who can do that.” She peers up at me. “You get that, right?”

“Good way to play my words right back to me.”

“You know, you’re not what I expected.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”