Page 5

CHAPTER

FIVE

ADALYN

D ays passed at the mansion, and I spent a lot of my time by the pool, reading a book or lounging about watching television in one of the various living rooms. I was biding my time and trying to keep my head down. My confidence in the ransom being paid soon had started turning sour, and as the hours trickled slowly by, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my faith in my family had been misplaced.

The only time I didn’t sit brooding on the thought was when I was eating breakfast with Jesse, and thankfully, after a couple of days we started to eat our dinners together, too. He would always disappear during the day though, and soon enough, loneliness had started setting in.

On the fourth day, I plucked up enough courage to ask Lucia for help teaching me some basic Italian recipes. Cooking had never been something that came naturally to me, and with an ample amount of time on my hands, it seemed like a good opportunity to learn from a woman who made the best food I had ever tasted.

The days quickly morphed into weeks—two to be exact—and I hadn’t spoken to another person outside of Jesse and Lucia for the entirety of them. All the usual busyness of the house was notably absent and apart from the odd Mafioso or maid here and there, the halls were unusually vacant.

It seemed that the Don was elsewhere, and I couldn’t say I was sad about it. Something about the man made my head hurt and my blood smolder…and I wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing.

The clock in the kitchen read twelve forty-five when I pulled a steaming pan of chocolate brownies from the oven. Not ten minutes later, Jesse appeared from god-knows-where he spent his days, with a plate in one hand, and I rolled my eyes at him. I cut him a piece before stacking the rest onto a plate.

“Everything okay, Jesse?”

He seemed quieter than usual as he ate. I had grown somewhat accustomed to his mannerisms over the last two weeks, and his silence now was unsettling.

He just shook his head and downed my glass of coke from the counter.

“Boss wants to see you.” He nodded in the direction of the study and rose to his feet as he spoke.

Apprehension suddenly made me edgy.

I hadn’t realized the Don was back again.

I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and took the plate of brownies with me as I followed Jesse to the study. He didn’t knock as we entered, going straight in and standing beside the corner window rather than leaving like he normally did.

My stomach churned when I observed the Don and an older man I didn’t recognize opposite each other, engaged in quiet discussion.

Hesitantly, I moved forward and placed the plate at the edge of the desk before sitting in the only available seat. I didn’t miss how the Don’s gaze followed the movement, nor the way he seemed to study the plate as if I’d put a pig’s head on his desk instead of a pile of gooey chocolate brownies.

“Ada, this is Benny. Benny is my consigliere.” There was that nickname again.

I did my best to ignore the sudden sputter of my heart and turned to the man beside me.

“Hello,” I offered, returning the older man’s smile.

I couldn’t help but notice the air in the room was tense. Benny’s smile was clearly forced, and Jesse’s reticence was out of character. Only the Don looked unaffected by it, though I had a suspicion that it was rare to find him affected by anything.

“Our discussions with your family have concluded,” Marco began, bringing his hands together in a pyramid over his lap. “They have been unsuccessful. Your father is refusing to meet our demands.”

My stomach fell to the floor.

What?

My mind swirled like a hurricane, confusion and anger obliterating all rationality.

They wouldn’t do this to me, would they?

“You’re lying!” I’d hoped my voice would come out furious and accusatory, but it just sounded hollow.

It surprised me when Jesse stepped forward to answer instead of the Don, “Adalyn, just listen to him.” I met Jesse’s eyes and saw nothing but concern in them. “It’s true.”

“H-how much was it?” I asked, not really expecting an answer but asking the question anyway.

To my complete surprise, the Don responded. “One hundred mill.”

My stomach knotted with his answer.

Admittedly, I didn’t know much about the state of my family’s finances…but I knew that we had one hundred million dollars. My family owned an assortment of clubs and casinos, many of which were situated right off the infamous Las Vegas strip itself. If we didn’t have that kind of money lying around, then it really wouldn’t have taken that much effort to raise the funds Don La Torre was demanding.

They just didn’t want to.

My chest constricted and my breathing suddenly became labored.

Not only had my family turned their backs on me and left me inside enemy territory…but by doing that, they had told Don La Torre just how worthless I really was to them. To him.

The Don now knew I was a liar…that nothing and no one was going to protect me now.

Panic started spreading like frostbite.

It suddenly didn’t matter that I was in a room with three very powerful and emotionless men. Tears welled in my eyes, and I hid my head in my hands as a quiet sob caught in my throat.

I vaguely heard Marco’s firm voice ringing out in Italian. I didn’t know the language well enough to understand what he’d said and frankly in that moment, I didn’t care either way. I felt Benny and Jesse move slowly toward the door in response to whatever it was though, disappearing with a gentle click of the handle.

His desk chair creaked, and I flinched.

I was scared. Terrified.

He’s going to kill me now.

A sob tore out of me.

My heart stammered and my breaths were coming in pants as I finally lifted my head. I was met by the cool black eyes of the Don, as he leaned against the desk.

I fell to my knees before him instantly, the ground biting into my knees.

“P-please don’t kill me,” I cried. “I’m so, so, sorry I lied. I didn’t know they wouldn’t pay. Please, Marco, please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything. I’m s-sorry. I’m so, so, s-sorry,” I begged, my voice garbled by my tears and sobs, making me sound nothing short of pathetic.

I didn’t care. I was begging for my life.

“I’ll do anything. Anything . Just plea ? — .”

“You aren’t in here so I can kill you.”

What? Why?

I didn’t understand the words that hung between us.

Why wouldn’t he kill me?

My sobs died in my throat and acute relief made the pounding in my ears almost painful. I swiped at the tears tracking down my face, breathing in uneven gasps as a new wave of terror quickly constricted my lungs, my relief suddenly short-lived.

If he wasn’t going to kill me… did that mean a fate worse than death?

I tilted my head to look at the Don, meeting his dark eyes with nothing short of terror.

“T-t-then what are you going to do to me?” My voice came out a trembling whisper. Tears hot and heavy staining my cheeks.

“I’m not a fucking monster, Ada. Jesus ,” The Don bit out, taking in my expression.

He laughed once without a single trace of humor and straightened to his full height, walking away. He stood and looked out the window like Jesse had earlier.

“W-what?” My brain struggled to process what he had said around the pounding of adrenaline and remnants of fear clutching at my chest.

He turned back toward me, shoving his hands casually into his pockets. His Rolex glinted with the movement.

“Unlike a lot of men in my profession, I am not the kind of man that sells women into torment. So quit looking at me like I am.”

Surprise had me searching his face and meeting his indecipherable eyes with my own. He let out a heavy sigh.

“You are to remain here for the foreseeable future. Until I can figure out the particulars,” he said measuredly. Once again, the picture of ease and stoic detachment.

“Now, get up ,” he ordered.

I immediately complied, unsteadily finding my feet and heaving myself back into the chair. The cool leather instantly stuck to my over-heated skin as I contemplated what he had said.

“I’m to remain here,” I muttered to myself, as if checking I had heard the crux of his words correctly. “I’m not going to be killed. I’m not going to be sold…”

“No, you’re no?—"

“Why?” I blurted out, cutting him off.

His eyes found mine again, but this time there seemed to be something else swirling within them. Something I wasn’t sure I could place.

“Because I don’t punish innocent people.”

His sentence hung heavy in the air until a loud knock sounded against the door. Wyatt stepped inside and judging from the look on his face, I knew my time alone with the Don had come to its end.

I seized the opportunity and fled the office, not stopping until I was in the confines of my room.

With the door firmly locked behind me, I curled up on the windowsill and listened to the gentle pattering of rain against the glass. Sobs bubbled up from my chest, breaking through the relative silence.

My family didn’t pay the ransom.

The words burned deep within my chest, burrowing into my bones. Rejection and hurt crashing into me with equal ferocity.

I may not have been the heir or had any kind of power…but blood was supposed to run thicker than water. That was ingrained into the very heart of the Cosa Nostra. The whole institution was founded on blood, loyalty and family.

Loneliness and an impending sense of dread consumed me as another sob tore free of my chest.

I was stranded in enemy territory and there was no longer a way out.

My family was not coming.

The sun had meandered to the edge of the horizon, casting the room in a gentle golden glow as I was roused from sleep. A swift knock vibrated on the door, and I shifted against the leather chaise lounge, righting myself from the awkward position I’d fallen into.

I cleared my throat quietly, “Come in.”

A sliver of light trickled in from the hallway outside and I glanced toward it, expecting to find Jesse. With a start, I realized that the Don had entered the room instead, and I watched cautiously as he stopped a few yards away.

“Are you alright?” Marco’s deep voice, despite being gentle, was loud against the silence.

“Do you care?” I challenged, then immediately regretted it. I needed to tread carefully now, with my safety no longer guaranteed by my lies. “I’m sorr?—”

“Save it.” He dismissed, putting his hands in his pockets like he had done earlier. “Simpering and weak doesn’t suit you, Ada.”

My mouth slackened in shock.

I could feel his eyes burning into me and I made the monumental mistake of meeting them, unwittingly trapping myself in his predatory gaze.

He didn’t say anything further. It was like we were locked in some strange little stand-off where only he knew the rules. Another minute ticked by.

Then another.

My patience finally snapped. “Can I help you with something? Or are you just going to stand there like a creep staring at your new slave?”

Shit .

I didn’t really know what the repercussions for my outburst were going to be, but I certainly didn’t expect him to smirk .

“An intriguing idea…but no.” His tone was almost… playful . “As you are aware, I already have people for that .”

He scratched at his chin as a smile ghosted across his lips.

The motion was telling.

Suddenly, I understood why he had stared at me silently before, declining to speak. He had wanted me to challenge him. To lose my temper. To snap at him.

He was provoking me.

What. The. Hell.

I didn’t have time to process that as he was already speaking again.

“Like I said before, you are to remain here. But you are no longer a hostage.”

He crossed the distance between us slowly, his footsteps silent against the plush carpet as he stopped less than a foot away. The Don reached a hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out an unfamiliar white phone, holding it out.

“Abuse it and you will lose it.” He warned ominously.

“You’re giving me a phone?” I questioned cautiously. Tentatively taking the phone from his outstretched hand.

“Not a hostage, remember?” He responded dryly, stepping away and seemingly surveying the room.

Allowing me some privacy, I quickly realized.

I pushed at one of the buttons on the device and the screen immediately lit up in response, opening on a home screen. It had already been configured.

It took me less than thirty seconds to determine that despite the phone in my hand, there was no way for me to contact my family. I didn’t have their numbers, and even if I could somehow miraculously remember the digits, they would have been changed the moment the La Torre’s had made contact. The only other hope I had was through social media…if that hadn’t also been deleted already and I couldn’t be sure. I tried to check anyway, but the permissions on the phone were all denied, blocking me from accessing any of it.

It was disappointing…but did I really want to make contact with my family? The fact that my initial response to that question was no , unsettled me more than anything else.

I clicked on the contacts list and found two numbers already keyed in.

I snorted out a laugh, “You are such an ass.” I muttered, then contemplated how sane I was for insulting him.

He was just provoking you though, remember? He wants you fiery…

The Don turned back around, facing me once again.

“That’s funny, I could have sworn I just bought you a new phone.” He scowled, but it seemed like with fabricated annoyance this time rather than genuine irritation.

“I don’t mean the phone. The phone is actually… Thank you.” I coughed awkwardly.

His gaze shot toward the window behind me as he muttered a nearly inaudible, “You’re welcome.”

I had to force myself to swallow before continuing. “It’s just… You saved your name as ‘Don La Torre’ in my contacts. That’s a little formal, don’t you think?”

He let out a dark, low chuckle that sent tingles dancing down my spine.

Holy hell.

That sound was dangerous.

“What else would I call myself?” He asked somewhat rhetorically, but curiosity and challenge seemingly battled away in his eyes. He wanted me to answer.

He wants me to challenge him, I realized.

“I can think of a few names better suited.” I offered cheerily and he scowled with faux irritation.

Adrenaline mixed with fear trilled through my system. I doubted he allowed many people to challenge him like this…and it was exhilarating.

He turned and walked back toward the door. Then stopped. I pretended not to notice his pause, though in reality I was always too keenly aware of this enigmatic man’s presence.

“Ada?” The word sent my heart racing into overdrive.

“Marco.” I responded dryly, keeping my eyes on the phone.

His silence told me he wasn’t happy about my omission of his title, but he didn’t comment on it like before.

“I have a meeting at one of my clubs tomorrow night. You will attend.”

What?

It took me a moment to process what he’d said, but then an excited smile pulled at my face.

“So, you’re really not going to kill me then?” I asked, only half joking.

When I looked over to him, he was already smirking to himself. “Maybe later.”

He pulled open the door and stepped out, closing it gently behind him.

The moment the door snicked shut, I let out a heavy breath of air, the rational part of my brain finally flickering back to life.

I was no longer a hostage.

I would have to remain behind the stone walls of enemy territory, but I was no longer here to broker a deal between families. I was just… here .

Don La Torre certainly wasn’t what I had expected.

Most men in his position wouldn’t have thought twice about putting a bullet between my eyes or carting me off to the highest bidder at the earliest opportunity…and yet, this Don had done neither. He had even given me a phone for Christ’s sake!

He had actually wanted me to actively challenge him. To lose my temper and push his buttons…even going so far as to provoke me to do it.

Simpering and weak doesn’t suit you, Ada.

I’d thought that the many years I’d spent around dangerous men had sharpened my instincts and made me a good judge of character…but Don La Torre was something else entirely.

I just didn’t know what.