Grinded (The Invincibles Book 3)

by Heather Slade

  I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Who?”

  “Someone with close ties to the monarchy.”

  Instead of returning to Pia’s bed, I spent the next several days traveling with Rile from London to Budapest and finally to America. We’d been forced to go deep undercover; if word had gotten out that the woman was kidnapped, the media attention alone would’ve ensured we never would’ve found her—alive anyway.

  Now that she was safely ensconced back with her family, Rile and I were in Texas, awaiting Edge’s arrival.

  I’d been trying to reach Pia for several days to explain, but was unsuccessful. I could only imagine what she was thinking, particularly given the conversation we’d had earlier that evening. My intention was to leave in the next couple of days and travel directly to Italy. If all else failed, I’d show up on her doorstep and beg her forgiveness.

  Instead, when Edge and his brother arrived at the King-Alexander Ranch late this evening, I found myself thrust into yet another mission. This time, on behalf of my best friend.

  A member of the Aryan Brotherhood of Texas was murdered shortly after we left for Beijing. The woman charged with the crime was someone Edge had met the night before we left, and having come face to face with the dead bloke, he felt responsible.

  The ABT was a nasty bunch of fuckers with a slew of enemies. The hard part, though, was figuring out which of those enemies had executed the hit, and then proving it. With any gang-related crime, that was the ultimate challenge.

  I knew immediately that this investigation was personal for Edge. “What do you see happening with this woman?” I asked a few days into it. It took him a long time to answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Not good, mate.”

  “Rebel doesn’t have anyone else who can help her.”

  I nodded. “So you’re the white knight.”

  “I can’t explain it, Grind. When I met her, something just clicked. It’s more than that she’s hot as fuck.”

  “You’re arse over elbows.”

  He smiled. “That, I am.”

  He wasn’t the only one. The raw vulnerability Pia had revealed to me when we were last together, struck me square in the heart. I too wanted to be her white knight, even though I was the one from whom she needed saving. The things I said to her still rolled around in my gut, shaming me.

  And then, while she slept, I left. It didn’t occur to me I wouldn’t be back. If it had, I would’ve woken her. Instead, I’d had to go completely dark. I shook my head. What she must think. I needed to call Lily. Asking my sister to intervene on my behalf was going to cost me, both in pride and also in the jabs my sister would inflict on me. It would be worth it, though, considering I had no idea how long our current investigation might take.

  17

  Pia

  It had been three weeks since I took an early flight back from London. For the first seven days straight, I received a flower delivery from Paolo. They only stopped when I finally agreed to see him, mainly because it meant he’d forgone the second leg of his sales trip to return to Italy.

  Since I’d offered to never mention his behavior again if he apologized, for my own conscience, I had to honor it.

  “Will you give me another chance?” he’d begged.

  I told him I forgave him, but our friendship—not that friendship was the chance he was asking for—would never be the same.

  He’d offered again to represent Valentini in his future sales meetings, but I declined. The order we’d received from Fellwood was more than I initially thought it might be, and I hoped their distribution of our wine would continue. Otherwise, feeling beholden to Paolo was a position I’d never put myself in again.

  When he left, he vowed he wouldn’t give up. Someday, some way, he’d make it up to me, he’d promised. I didn’t bother to tell him there was nothing he could do. He already knew that.

  I had no expectation that I’d hear from Mylos, and yet I was still disappointed. It was better this way. It would take time, but I’d get over him. It wasn’t as though he was a daily part of my life anyway. The idea that I’d never see him again was the part that was hardest to accept.

  I saw my mother sitting on the terrazza and went outside to join her.

  “Buongiorno, Mamma.” I kissed her cheek.

  “Buongiorno, Pia.”

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “A bit better.”

  It had been weeks, maybe months, that my mother was ill. I’d taken her to see the doctor several times, but they found no reason for her to be as sick as she was.

  “No more flowers?” she asked.

  I laughed. “I think Paolo has finally given up.”

  From where we sat, we could see Georgio arriving at the winery. He was on the phone, and he didn’t look happy.

  “Have you spoken with Nonna Bella?” I asked.

  My mamma shook her head.

  “Are you concerned?”

  She looked over her shoulder toward the house. “I don’t understand why she’d stop communicating after all the years she’s been with us. I’ve asked Georgio, and he said she’s recovering.”

  I’d done the same. I’d also asked Gabriella, whose mother was supposedly caring for Nonna Bella. She said the same thing Georgio had.

  Even Lucia’s mother, who’d worked side by side our long-time cook, had nothing to report on her friend’s well-being.

  “Good morning,” said Lucia, joining us a few minutes later on the terrazza.

  “Buongiorno. I was just thinking about your mamma. How is she?”

  “A bit better.” Lucia had taken over her mother’s duties the last couple of weeks, saying that, like my mother, Nonna Carina was feeling under the weather. She asked if she could bring us anything, and we both thanked her and declined.

  “Mamma?” I began after Lucia went back inside. “What would happen with the estate if I never had a child?”

  “I’ve never thought about it.” She reached over and took my hand. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Paolo.”

  I didn’t tell her I wasn’t thinking about him. The less I said about Mylos, the better.

  “I’m sure you will meet someone else, Pia. He will be the person you’re meant to be with. These things cannot be rushed. Look at your papà and me. I was not much younger than you are when we met.”

  “I know you’re right, Mamma, but the curse still worries me. If I don’t have an heir and someone else inherits Valentini, do you think Estancia’s curse will finally end?”

  “What I think is you are being silly and overly dramatic. However, if you do not have an heir, there will be no one else to inherit. I do not have any siblings, and neither did my mother, nor her mother before her. Or before that.”

  “Are you saying that there were no male heirs?”

  “None after Estancia.”

  “And no one had more than one child?”

  “As far as I know. Even Estancia had only one daughter.”

  “This is unbelievable. I need to know, Mamma, what happens if I never have a child?”

  “I’ve already told you, Pia, I don’t know. I suppose the estate would have to be sold.” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t understand why you’re so worried about this. You will meet someone new. You’ll get married, have a baby or maybe many babies, and this conversation will be for nothing.”

  When I left my mother and went back to the winery office, Georgio was waiting for me. I didn’t like the look on his face and wasn’t in the mood for another argument, especially after the frustrating conversation I’d just had with my mother.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked.

  “We may have trouble fulfilling the order you wrote without consulting me.”

  My head snapped up. “What do you mean? Our production levels are far above what was ordered.”

  “There’s an issue with the vintages.”

  “An issue? You are bitching that I didn’t consult you abou
t an order, but you haven’t informed me of an issue with our inventory?”

  “Never mind.”

  “What? What do you mean never mind? Explain, Georgio.”

  He stomped out of the office, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. I was so furious I was having trouble breathing. I should fire him on the spot, but until I had someone else lined up to replace him, I couldn’t afford to do that.

  Georgio came back a few days later, saying he was mistaken and we would have no trouble with the order. We’d been friends all of our lives, and yet, he felt like a stranger to me—one I couldn’t trust.

  I’d placed a call to Matteo when Georgio first told me about the still-unnamed “issue,” but didn’t reach him. When he called back several days later, he was apologetic.

  “Do you think I’m being paranoid, Matteo?” I asked after telling him how the conversation with Georgio went.

  He didn’t answer right away, and I wondered if our call had disconnected. “It would be best if you didn’t let him go right now.”

  “Why?”

  He breathed out a heavy sigh. “Try to make things work for now.”

  “Do you think he’ll intentionally do something to jeopardize our business?”

  “I do not.”

  He sounded emphatic, and I trusted my cousin. His explanation that he’d been away and unable to be reached seemed very unusual, though. Once again, I felt as though things in my world were off-kilter.

  On top of everything else, I wasn’t feeling well. Sometimes I felt perfectly fine. Others, I couldn’t keep any food down. All I could think was that I was coming down with whatever ailed my mother and Nonna Carina.

  I went upstairs to lie down, and the minute my head hit the pillow, I felt nauseous. I barely made it to the lavatory before I lost the contents of my stomach.

  I stayed in bed most of the rest of the day, even when I began feeling better, wondering if Estancia was trying to give me warnings not to doubt her curse. What else could explain how many things seemed to be going wrong in my life?

  When my cell phone rang, later in the day, I hesitated when I saw Lily’s name pop up, but it wasn’t her fault Mylos was no longer in my life.

  “How are you, Lily?”

  “Exhausted, Pia. How are you?”

  “A bit under the weather, but otherwise okay.”

  She asked what was wrong, and I explained my symptoms.

  She laughed. “The last time I felt that way, I was pregnant.”

  “That isn’t my problem. Unless it is an immaculate conception. How are the kids?”

  “Angus is almost as tall as I am. Aria is my little angel, and baby Miles is colicky.”

  I’d forgotten she and Wills mentioned naming their third child after her brother, even though Angus’ middle name was the same. “What does that mean?” I asked, hoping her answer would get my mind off the pain in my heart whenever I thought about Mylos.

  My heart sunk when I received an email from Fellwood not long after, canceling their order, citing a concern over our “quality issues.”

  To make matters worse, earlier in the week, Georgio came to me to say the corking machine had broken down. Replacing it would cost more than 10,000 euros.

  Not to mention, I still wasn’t feeling better. Overcome, I put my head in my hands and cried. My cell phone rang; Lily was calling again.

  “Hi.”

  “You don’t sound good.”

  Ten minutes later, I finished unloading the shitstorm my life had become.

  “I’m sorry, Pia. I wish you felt you could’ve confided in me sooner.”

  “It isn’t easy for me.” I blew my nose and wiped at my tears.

  “I think trying to build a tourism business by advertising the farmhouse is a good idea. As would be adding to the accommodations you offer. It seems like people who visit would also buy wine.”

  “You would think so, but I have another confession, Lily. The last group who rented the farmhouse for more than one night was your family.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Here it came; I knew exactly what she’d ask. “Sure.”

  “Have you talked to Miles?”

  Any hope I had of ebbing the flow of my tears, was lost. Now that I’d started, I might as well continue and tell Lily everything.

  “Your brother showed up when I was last in London, and we had a terrible argument.”

  “About?”

  “Paolo, which was none of his business.” I told her how after we’d made up and then made love, her brother sneaked out of my room.

  “Pia, tell me your symptoms again.”

  I went through how I felt nauseous several times a day and then, at others, I felt fine. I was tired, but that could easily be explained by the stress I was under.

  “Anything else you can think of?”

  “No.”

  “What about your breasts, are they tender?”

  Lily’s question stunned me, but they were. “Yes.”

  “Pia, I know you said it was impossible for you to be pregnant, but you just told me you and my brother were together.”

  “I’m on birth control, Lily.”

  “It has been known to fail.”

  I counted back in my head to my last menstrual cycle and gasped.

  “I’m sorry, Pia. I know this doesn’t help, but if you are pregnant, you should be under a doctor’s care.”

  I nodded but couldn’t speak.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Sì. Lily. Promise me you won’t tell Mylos.”

  “I understand why you would say that, but Pia, if you are pregnant and the baby is his, he needs to know.”

  “I will tell him, but in my own time.”

  “I get it and promise I won’t interfere.”

  I hung up and dissolved into sobs. How could I be pregnant? I looked up at the ceiling and shook my fist. “If this is your doing, Estancia, I will give you a piece of my mind in the afterlife.”

  18

  Grinder

  “Do you have a moment?” my sister asked when I answered her call.

  “Of course. Is everything okay?”

  “We’re all fine, as are Mum and Dad.”

  Odd way for her to put it. “Is there someone who isn’t?”

  She sighed. “I’m breaking a confidence, Miles.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s Pia.”

  I scrubbed my face with my hand. “I’ve been trying to reach her for weeks. Unsuccessfully. I know she’s upset about what happened in London, but if she’d only speak to me, I could explain.”

  “I’m afraid she’s going to lose Valentini.”

  “What do you mean?” As soon as I asked, I recalled Pia telling me she was considering selling.

  “Business is bad. Things keep going wrong. I think she’s been struggling since her father died.”

  “She mentioned selling. Is that still a viable option?”

  “Miles!”

  “What?”

  “How can you suggest she let Valentini go?”

  “I’m sorry, Lil, but I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

  “I was thinking that if you were coming home for Christmas, our family could come up with ways to try to help her.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “I don’t know why I bothered to call you. Pia told me you didn’t give a rat’s about her, and I guess she was right. Happy Christmas, Miles.”

  The call ended, and I knew it wasn’t because it had dropped.

  Before I got involved in Edge’s mission, my intention had been to go to Italy to explain what happened in London. Was there anything stopping me from going now? I rang Lily back, hoping she’d answer. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You’ll go to Valentini?”

  “If you think it will help.”

  “I think that would be brilliant, Miles. I’ve another idea. This is about the farmhouse.”

  “Go on.”

 
I’d just set a packed bag by the front door when I heard a knock.

  “I’ve come to talk to you about Christmas,” said Edge when he came inside. “Going somewhere?” He pointed at my bag.

  “Have a seat.”

  “I don’t want to keep you.”

  “I’m leaving for a while, Edge. I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be gone.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “It’s Pia.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “My sister fears she’s about to lose the winery that’s been in her family dating back to the mid-1500s. My gut, though, is telling me there’s something more to it.”

  “Like?”

  “Her father’s accident, primarily.”

  “Are you bloody serious?” he exclaimed when I told him Pia’s father had been run over by a forklift.

  It was cold as hell the night I left the ranch to catch a flight to Italy. This kind of weather exacerbated the pain and discomfort of my skin graft. Whoever said that what I experienced was psychosomatic, as some doctors did, should keep their opinions to themselves unless they’d suffered through the same trauma as people like me had.

  I turned on the news station as I drove to the Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. Evidently, it hadn’t snowed in this area in ten years. Ten years. I met Pia ten years ago. God, what a lot had happened in that time. Our lives had completely changed. Mine far more than hers, although was that fair? She’d lost her father, and if what my sister told me was true, she may be about to lose her home.

  Travel time to Florence was over fifteen hours, including a layover in Frankfurt. By the time I reached Valentini, it would be Christmas. I wished I’d thought to bring Pia a gift. A real gift. Not something I picked up at the Frankfurt airport.

  I settled into my sleeper seat, hoping I would be able to stop my brain from coming up with scenarios or theories as to what Pia was up against.

  “Can I get you anything, Mr. Stone?” asked the flight attendant. A sleeping pill would be nice. Not that she could or that I would ask.