Captivated

by Bethany-Kris

  Liliana scoffed.

  Hard.

  Lucian cleared his throat, and glanced at Joe before saying, “No, I didn’t feel it was important. Just like you didn’t know who I had acting as your enforcer before Joe. It’s no different.”

  “It is different.” Liliana’s attention cut back to Joe, and her burning gaze felt like a sharp knife slicing through his skin. “And he knows exactly why it’s different.”

  Shit, yeah.

  He did know.

  He knew exactly why she was hurting when she put it like that, and he was more than willing to take the blame for it, too.

  Joe had gotten close to Liliana on a personal level, and that left her exposed. Maybe had he been honest with her upfront, she wouldn’t be feeling like she did right now. Betrayed, and so confused.

  He got it.

  How could he fix it?

  “I should have told you,” Joe said.

  “You think?” she asked.

  “He was ordered not to,” Lucian added.

  His words made no difference.

  Joe knew it before he even said it.

  Interestingly enough, Joe didn’t miss how Lucian offered information about how Liliana was the job, and not the other pieces of information that went along with it. Like how Joe had been first hired to kill two men—one of which was the father to a man Joe suspected she had been involved with in some way.

  No, Lucian didn’t mention that at all.

  Liliana glanced back at Joe, and he swore he saw a line of water filling her hazel eyes. “So, that’s what it is, then.”

  “I don’t follow,” Joe said.

  “A job. I was a job.”

  Joe blinked. “Liliana—”

  “No,” she said, standing from the couch. “I get it, Joe.”

  There was a lot of things he wanted to say in that moment. A hell of a lot he thought Liliana needed her eyes opened to.

  Like the fact that when something happened she didn’t like, the first thing the girl did was get up, and run. For some, that might be seen as cowardly, but Joe saw it as a way Liliana protected herself from getting hurt.

  He understood.

  But it hurt him, too.

  And she should know that.

  And yet, the woman’s father standing in the room kept Joe from blurting out some kind of personal shit that he didn’t want people knowing. He especially didn’t want other men in this life to know he’d found a weakness in himself.

  Or rather, this woman brought out Joe’s weakness.

  Maybe that was Joe’s flaw—Liliana ran, and Joe was too cold. She had her way of protecting herself, and he had his way of safeguarding his secrets, too. That didn’t mean it was good, but humans were predictable that way.

  “Yeah,” Liliana said, giving Joe another look. “I fucking get it, Joe.”

  He knew what she was seeing; his blank expression, and stiff posture. A cold aura, and a dispassionate delivery to his words. It was the mask he kept firmly on when other men like him were present, and he was not going to drop it right then, either. She didn’t know these things, but he had never offered an explanation, either.

  Whose fault was it, then?

  Liliana nodded. “I’m just a job.”

  “Liliana—”

  “Call me a driver,” she interrupted her father. “I need to go home.”

  “You could stay, and—”

  “I’m going home.”

  Lucian didn’t bother to argue with her further, and instead, waved his hand at the door for her to leave. Liliana didn’t even give Joe a look over her shoulder as she left in her floor-length, beautiful wine-red gown.

  He didn’t blame her, either.

  Once her footsteps couldn’t be heard anymore, Lucian turned to Joe again. He didn’t want to talk—really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture about how he hadn’t followed through on his hits, yet, and the rest of that bullshit.

  Joe was too busy being stuck in his own head, and trying to figure out how to fix what he fucked up on. He’d never had to fix something with a woman before, and he didn’t like how much it hurt in his chest to know that he’d caused Liliana some kind of pain.

  Or that he made her feel anything less than … adored.

  Because he did adore her.

  “I know,” Joe murmured, pushing away from the wall, “get the fucking job done. Save your breath, Lucian.”

  “Actually,” Lucian said, clearing his throat, “I was going to say that should you finish this job out, I wouldn’t mind giving you a second chance to correct whatever happened here tonight, Joe.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “My daughter, and all my children. I tend to … stay out of their personal business. Something my wife and I chose a long time ago where our children were concerned. I didn’t realize there was something going on between you and Liliana, and I realize I may have just made your situation worse. I apologize.”

  Huh.

  “She’s a good girl,” Lucian added quieter. “And the thing about her is—well, she doesn’t care who you are, or the things you do, Joe. If she loves you, then she overlooks the rest. I’m sure you know being in this business … a woman like that is terribly hard to find, and the men who do have a woman like that are the luckiest of us all.”

  “You’re right about one thing.”

  “Which one?”

  “It was hard to find her; twenty-one years, actually.”

  Joe wasn’t sure he would say love—not yet, anyway. He would say that if he had one person in the world, he thought it might be Liliana. There was something about her that kept drawing him in. She was spectacular; captivating. And she had done exactly that to him with nothing more than a sly smile, and a few quick words in a darkened hallway.

  Captivated him.

  And so maybe, he wanted to see where this might go with her. He wanted to have that chance, but the circumstances just weren’t lining up for either of them at the end of the day. Things kept getting in the way.

  Lucian nodded. “You could drop your walls down a bit with us—my family, I mean. Let her see something from you other than … this person I’m looking at. We’re not out to hurt you, Joe.”

  “Right again,” Joe returned, heading for the entryway of the room, “I could, Lucian, but I probably won’t. I am who I am.”

  Joe left the rest of his words unsaid.

  He figured he didn’t have to say them.

  They can take me as I am, or not.

  Liliana included.

  “Fuck,” Joe groaned.

  He wasn’t a drinker, but sometimes, a man needed a few shots—or a bottle, who was counting?—of whiskey to be able to close his damn eyes, and go to sleep. After the night before, he figured drinking was the very least he could do to feel better.

  He was seriously regretting that choice now that he was trying to peel his eyes open, and the sunlight filtering in through the windows all but burned his eyelids.

  Jesus Christ.

  And what was the noise?

  It made the throbbing in his temples pick up speed. Joe pressed his palms to his eyes to try and relieve some of the pressure, but it didn’t work.

  His phone.

  Yeah, that’s what the sound was.

  His goddamn phone.

  Blindly, Joe swung his arm out and felt for his phone on the nightstand. It kept ringing, vibrating, and beating like a damn drum inside his head. Finally, he found the stupid thing, and turned it on before dragging it to his head.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Who shit in your Cornflakes?”

  Oh, God.

  Why did Cory have to be this cheerful in the morning?

  It never ended.

  “What do you want?”

  “You don’t sound good, man,” Cory said.

  “Cory, I don’t even have a nerve left for you to work, all right. So, whatever it is, get it the fuck out.”

  “I mean, if you want to be a prick about it, then maybe I got
nothing for you. If you want to perk your attitude up, and act pleasant like our mother taught you to, then maybe I have some information about your Rich Earl. Which do you want to choose, Joe?”

  Damn.

  “I’d prefer the bad mood,” Joe grumbled.

  “And yet …”

  “What do you have, Cory?”

  He forced his tone to be pleasant.

  It was the best Joe could do.

  “Well, nothing concrete.”

  “Then why are you calling me? Because I am pretty sure you told me it was going to take a week or more to get any kind of useable info, so if you’re just calling to fuck me around, then don’t bother. I have better things to do, man.”

  Yeah.

  There went his pleasantness.

  “First, I figured it was going to take that long. Second, cut the attitude. New York is a twelve hour drive, but I know a guy with a jet on standby, so I can be there even quicker to beat your ass.”

  “You could try.”

  “Knock it off, Joe.” Cory sighed. “It’s not concrete because it’s not on actual, official paper. But it’s rumors, and we all know what people say about those.”

  “It all starts somewhere, and usually with a grain of truth.”

  “Exactly. But, uh …”

  “Spit it out.”

  “The rumors—the stories, or whatever—they’re concerning.”

  Okay, now he had Joe’s attention. Despite the way his head ached even more, he sat up on the bed, and kicked the comforter off his legs.

  “Talk to me,” Joe mumbled.

  “Seriously, were you drinking last night?”

  “A little.”

  “A little doesn’t make you sound like vomit is on the back of your tongue, Joe.”

  “Yeah, well, are we talking about the info you found, or my hangover?”

  “I’d like to talk about both.”

  “Well,” Joe replied, “I’m only offering my conversation skills on one thing today. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

  “You’re seriously an asshole.”

  “And you don’t get to pick family, brother. You’re stuck with me—shitty luck for you, I guess.”

  “Fine—the info,” Cory grumbled. “Liliana was definitely involved with Rich Earl, although I can’t say it was for very long.”

  A hot ball grew in Joe’s gut.

  Jealousy, likely.

  Fuck.

  Not the right time.

  “What makes you think it wasn’t for very long?”

  “He’s the son of a senator, and she’s the daughter of a high ranking made man. They both come from elite New York families, Joe.”

  Cory offered all this like whatever he wasn’t saying should be obvious. It probably was, but Joe was just too tired and hungover to put it together.

  “Stop fucking with me today,” Joe warned.

  “The rags, Joe. Socialite rags, and shit. Had they been together for any real length of time, or shown up to enough public events together, their faces would have been splashed all over that shit. You know how they are here in Chicago. It’s even worse in New York.”

  “Ah, yeah.”

  “So, how long?”

  “I wouldn’t say more than a couple of months, but maybe a little more.”

  “Is this all you’ve found?”

  “I wish,” Cory muttered under his breath. “From the people I know and talked to, they said they heard some bad shit went down between Liliana and Rich one night when they were heading to a private party.”

  Joe blinked at the clock on the wall. “What kind of bad shit?”

  “No one said for sure—nobody saw Liliana directly after, either. Cops were called, though, so a police report had to have been filed. Thing is, there’s nothing.”

  Joe thought about the Chief of Police he was supposed to kill, and wondered if that was the reason why the man needed to be killed—had he done away with evidence?

  “Are there rumors about what happened?” Joe dared to ask.

  “A guy knows a guy in the Marcello organization. Low fuck, mind you, but still.”

  “Cory, spit it out.”

  His brother sighed again. “Said the guy beat the shit out of her in the back of a limo, Joe. He suggested more, but didn’t know for sure, and wasn’t willing to say considering who she is and all. From other people—kind of sounds like Rich was fucking obsessed with her. Saw her dance at a show or something, and that’s how he met her. Anyway, this is what I’ve got.”

  “So, why do they want me to kill the father and the Chief of Police, and not the stupid fuck who hurt her?”

  “Maybe they’re a means to an end,” Cory suggested.

  Huh.

  Joe hadn’t considered that.

  “And I mean, if that were Mon,” Cory added, referring to their little sister, “and there were guys who helped to cover up what he did to her, you know we’d put every single one of them in the ground.”

  “Yeah.”

  To say the least.

  “Thanks, man,” Joe said.

  “You got it.”

  After he had hung up with his brother, Joe made one more phone call. On the third ring, Lucian picked up.

  “Lucian here.”

  “I’ll put the first hit through tonight—the father, he’s gone.”

  He didn’t explain why, or anything about his choice. He didn’t bother to question Lucian on the things he knew, either.

  Joe didn’t want to ask Lucian.

  He had someone else to talk to.

  She should tell him.

  It was Liliana’s story, not anyone else’s.

  Joe was regretting putting off these hits for so long, and being as difficult as he had. No doubt, Lucian had looked at this situation the same way Joe was now seeing it. It wasn’t the Marcello’s man’s place to out his daughter’s personal business, but especially not something traumatic.

  It took Lucian a second to speak, and his tone came out as flat as Joe’s when he said, “Good. I’ve been waiting for this to get started.”

  Yeah, Joe bet.

  “Watch the news, Lucian. It’ll look like an accident.”

  Unfortunately.

  But if he was going to do these hits on high-profile men, Joe was going to do it right. And safe.

  They deserved worse.

  TEN

  “WHAT ARE YOU doing right now?”

  “Soaking my feet, drinking coffee, and watching the morning news,” Liliana replied.

  Cella laughed. “Multitasking.”

  “It’s the only way I get anything done.”

  “You sound … better today.”

  Sure, to Cella. Her sister was only getting the sound of her voice on the phone call, though. She couldn’t see that Liliana’s eyes were dimmed because she hadn’t been sleeping well the past couple of days, and she didn’t know that her sister couldn’t keep still. Fidgeting, and always needing to do something.

  Anything but think about—

  “So, are you going to tell me what happened with Joe at the charity event, and after?” Cella asked.

  “Well, I wasn’t.”

  “Um.”

  “And then you brought him up,” Liliana grumbled.

  Taking another sip of her coffee, Liliana kept an eye on the television. As usual, the anchors were first going through the highlights of the day before, and she wasn’t interested in any of that. She went back to her sister instead.

  “He’s working for Dad—or Dante,” Liliana corrected quickly. “I’m not really sure which one; hell, it could be both.”

  “Working for them how?”

  “Watching me, I guess.”

  Cella made a noise under her breath. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.”

  See, her fucking sister got it.

  Why couldn’t Joe get it?

  All he needed to do was tell her. Liliana wasn’t asking for a lot, but if his involvement in her life was work-related, then that would have been great
to know before they jumped into bed together.

  “Had he just told me before everything else,” Liliana said, “I feel like maybe we could have gotten all of that out of the way first, and then it wouldn’t have been sprung on me. I wouldn’t have to feel like that’s the only reason he was around, you know?”

  Cella cleared her throat. “I don’t think that was the only reason he was coming around, Liliana.”

  “Oh, no, I’m sure the fact I was spreading my legs for him was another reason.”

  “Damn—wow, not what I meant, either.”

  Liliana rolled her eyes upward. “That’s all it’s been, Cella.”

  “Not really. You had moments.”

  “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like they were some earth-shattering, ground-moving events in my life. They weren’t.”

  “I didn’t say it like that,” Cella argued.

  “Kind of did.”

  “You did have … something, though. Do you know how many females were sitting at the table at that first dinner? Quite a few—he only talked, and looked at you. And he smiled at you, too. Anyone else, and he might as well have been carved from ice.”

  “After he probably got the job to watch me, Cella.”

  “You assume—you don’t know for sure.”

  True, but still …

  “I’m not saying my anger isn’t irrational,” Liliana muttered.

  “Good because you’re acting like a child.”

  “I am not.”

  “And that right there really helps your case, Liliana.”

  She blew out a hard breath.

  Cella let her silently stew for a while.

  Liliana was grateful.

  “Listen, just the day before I found this out, I asked him to that event, and he refused me with no explanation. You know when and how he refused me?”

  “Uh … no?”

  “I was naked, and on my knees, Cella.”

  Her sister made a low keening noise, and then said, “TMI.”

  “Point is—that’s kind of hard to take, all right. What woman is going to take rejection from a guy in that kind of situation easily?”

  “Well, what did you do after all of that?”

  “Asked him to leave,” Liliana said.

  “And did he?”

  “Yep.”

  Wise of him, too.

  “Have you ever thought that maybe your experience with Rich Earl has … screwed you up a little bit when it comes to guys?” Cella asked.