Captivated

by Bethany-Kris

  He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  “But,” Lucian said, “if you were willing to wait a day or two before getting back to Chicago, and Liliana, then I had an offer for you. I felt it was … appropriate, all things considered.”

  Joe cocked a brow. “What kind of offer?”

  Because at the moment, nothing was worth to him what Liliana was.

  “One last mark,” Lucian murmured. “Rich, I mean. I’m sure he knows by now—he has to; he’s not stupid—that I’m coming for him. So, he’ll be looking for me, Joe. I expect him to be waiting or running from me.”

  Ah, Joe was getting it now.

  “And if I delivered the stupid fuck, what would you do for me?”

  “Well, it won’t be very hard for you to deliver him, mind you. I’ve had someone watching him for a while. But I think he knows the guy is tailing him, too.” Lucian grinned. “I would let you have a little fun with him, and allow you to watch me kill him. Poetic, maybe. Or … maybe I just need a little more God in my life. That’s what my mother would tell me.”

  Joe chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  Because yes, Joe wanted to take that offer.

  More than anything.

  “Counteroffer,” Joe said.

  Lucian frowned. “This isn’t that kind of deal, Joe.”

  “Fact remains, I am giving you one. I give her the news.”

  “Mmm.”

  “What?”

  “All of it, or just the Rich bit?”

  Joe shrugged. “All of it.”

  Lucian considered that for a moment, and then nodded. “Better you than me, I think.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, she already loves me, Joe. And while she may love you, she has to still love all of you, too. Even the parts that scare her. So yes, better you than me.”

  “Sounds—”

  “Lucian.”

  Lucian glanced away from Joe at the Marcello enforcer that approached. “What, Jacob?”

  “We have a problem.”

  “What kind of a problem?”

  “Giovanni called—let me know the boss gave him a shout when the lead he had tailing Rich went to shit this morning.”

  Lucian stiffened in the chair. “And what does that mean exactly?”

  Jacob swallowed thickly.

  Dread colored up his gaze.

  “Means we lost him, Lucian.”

  For the first time in a long time, Joe felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long while. It felt cold, and heavy. Like strong hands wrapping around his throat, and choking him to death without concern or care.

  Fear.

  That’s what he felt.

  Fear.

  “Joe,” Lucian hissed, “there’s no possible way the man knows where Liliana was taken to. We made sure of that—you chose it for that reason.”

  Could the man read his thoughts?

  Or was his fear that visible?

  Maybe it was just because it was her.

  And he hid nothing for her.

  Still, Lucian continued even through Joe’s haze of anxiety and fear. “I was talking to her an hour ago—she was fine.”

  It didn’t matter.

  Joe was already pulling out his phone, and dialing the number to his house back in Chicago. She should be there; he kept up with what she had been doing since she got into the city, although he had yet to call her.

  He was still trying to keep disconnected.

  Detached.

  At least, up until now.

  “Are you calling her?” he heard Lucian ask.

  Joe gave a short nod, but nothing else.

  It was all he could give.

  “Hello?” Liliana asked when the call connected.

  “Hey, Tesoro,” Joe replied.

  The relief was sweet.

  Too sweet, even.

  “Joe?”

  “That’s me, ballerina.”

  Liliana’s laughter coated his black soul.

  Like a shadow meeting the light. He couldn’t hide with her.

  She lit up every part of him. Every single dark part.

  “Why haven’t you called? I missed you.”

  Joe cleared his throat, saying, “Yeah, sorry about that. You’ll see me soon, though. I promise.”

  “How soon?”

  Beside him, Lucian said, “Are you going to help us track him, or not, Joe?”

  Liliana was safe.

  At least, for a day or two.

  Joe had to finish this fucking business here, so he could get back to his girl. His girl that he waited so fucking long to find.

  “Joe?” Liliana asked when he stayed quiet. “How soon?”

  “A couple of days, maybe.”

  “Oh.”

  Her sadness cut him deep.

  She didn’t know, though.

  This was for her.

  “But it’s still soon,” he added.

  “Guess I’ll just keep snooping through your stuff, then.”

  Joe laughed. “I hope you find something good.”

  “I already did, and I didn’t need to be here to find it, Joe.”

  FOURTEEN

  LILIANA FLIPPED THROUGH the journal she had found tucked under the pillow on Joe’s bed. The house had two spare bedrooms—both decorated—and yet, she found herself compelled to sleep in the room she knew was his.

  The journal didn’t seem like much on the surface with its matte black leather wrap, and a single cord wound around the cover. Joe clearly made no effort to make it safe from snoopers—like her—but she figured there was a point to that.

  Like the fact she couldn’t understand what in the hell was written inside. Oh, she could read it perfectly fine, sure. Making sense of it was a whole other matter.

  Initials.

  Dates.

  And then a checkmark, X, or line might be drawn beside the information. It was like he was logging something, and she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

  “Where did you find that?”

  Liliana’s head snapped up, and she found Cory Rossi leaning in the arched entryway of the kitchen. Mostly, she liked Joe’s younger brother even though he was the complete opposite of his brother. Cory was loud, and Joe was not. Cory seemed to thrive in having the spotlight, and Liliana had watched Joe move away from attention more than once.

  And yet, whenever Cory talked about his brother, it was clear the two cared a lot about each other. He always has my back, Cory had said about Joe.

  It reminded Liliana of her and Cella, in some ways.

  “Come to annoy me again today?” Liliana asked, going back to flipping through the pages of the journal. “Coffee’s hot, by the way.”

  “First, I don’t annoy you. Jesus, you sound just like my brother.”

  “Bet you annoy him, too.”

  She joked, mostly.

  Cory just gave her a wide grin as he passed the island by, and headed for the coffee pot. “Joe would say I absolutely annoy him, but for the record, if I didn’t, he would have nobody to get him out of this house when he isn’t doing a damn job. The man is a hermit—he would happily live alone for the rest of his life, and never need human contact. He even has his groceries delivered.”

  Liliana frowned as Cory came to sit on the stool beside her with a cup of black coffee. The mug was swallowed by his large hands, and steam curled upward from the hot, bitter liquid. It kind of amused her that from the corner of someone’s eye, the Rossi brothers looked so similar that they could almost be considered twins.

  She could see the difference.

  It was obvious to her.

  But still …

  “So, what, Joe doesn’t have a life is what you’re saying?” Liliana asked.

  “Joe has a life,” Cory mumbled, lifting his coffee up for a sip. “He just … prefers for that life to be quiet, we’ll say. He’s always been like that.”

  “Huh.”

  She wasn’t really surprised. She didn’t think that
would be the right word to use. After all, she had gotten the best insights to who Joe really was when it was just them alone, and no one else around. With others, he almost always turned into a statue with a mask of nothing by way of opinion, emotions, or otherwise.

  “So that’s where I come in,” Cory said, setting his cup down and smiling. “I get him the hell out of this house, whether he likes it or not, and he goes because I’m the little brother who he feels like someone has to watch out for just in case I blow myself up or some other stupid shit.”

  Liliana blinked. “But would you?”

  “What?”

  “Blow yourself up.”

  Cory made a noise in the back of his throat—considering. “I mean, I’ve done some stupid shit. As my father reminds Joe whenever he asks why he has to keep an eye on me, anything is possible when it comes to me. I just need shit at my disposal, a little bit of time on my hands, and some inspiration. Give me all or a combination of any of those things without someone to keep me in line, and people are asking for trouble. Who knows what might happen?”

  She smiled a little.

  At least he was honest.

  “I guess that means you’re the reckless to his serious,” Liliana said.

  Cory glanced over at her, and smiled. “You could say that, yeah.”

  “How would you say it?”

  “I would say that where I push my brother to be a little less controlled in literally every aspect of his life, he reminds me why it’s good to be responsible, too. Or, something like that. He thinks he’s keeping me busy and out of trouble with all these businesses we keep opening up together, but truth is, maybe it’s me who’s making him get out of the house a little more.”

  Liliana laughed.

  Cory smirked, and shrugged. “But we won’t tell him that, will we?”

  “Suppose not.”

  It amused her to no end how these two brothers clearly liked to mess with the other, and at the very same time, take care of one another.

  She was glad Joe had Cory. And his sister, too. Monica clearly adored her big brothers. That was before Liliana even got in to Joe’s parents who also seemed to love their kids more than the sea, earth, and air combined.

  “Are you going to ask about that?”

  Liliana’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

  Cory pointed at the journal she had closed, and sat down on the island countertop as the two of them talked. “The journal. Are you going to ask about it? Snooping is a bad habit, you know. Should quit that before you find something scary.”

  She scoffed. “Nothing scares me anymore.”

  Mostly.

  Or, that’s what she kept telling herself.

  “Besides,” Liliana added quickly, “Joe told me to snoop when he called the other day. So, I think it’s fair game for me to … look around.”

  “Oh, that’s what you’re calling it?”

  “Yep.”

  “I see,” Cory murmured. “So, are you?”

  “What?”

  “Going to ask.”

  Liliana picked up the journal again, and weighed it in her palm. She opened the front cover, and flipped through a couple of the pages. Something about the fact Joe was carefully logging something made her think maybe it wasn’t any of her business, or rather … she should ask the source, not his brother.

  “Not really,” Liliana said.

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  She set the journal aside. “It means, I don’t want to ask about that, but I do have other questions you might be able to answer for me.”

  Cory sipped from his coffee again. “Shoot.”

  “I’ve been here a few days. When is he going to get here?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Liliana frowned. “Do you know what they’re doing right now?”

  “Who is they?”

  “Joe, my dad … people in New York, I guess.”

  Cory cleared his throat. “I know just enough to tell you I can’t say anything because it’s not my place, or my business. I’m reckless, not stupid.”

  Fair.

  “Your dad—”

  “Damian, yeah,” Cory interjected.

  “He’s pretty high up in the Chicago mob, right?”

  “Outfit, Liliana. We call it the Chicago Outfit.”

  “I know what it’s called.”

  Cory passed her a look. “Then, use the right name.”

  “Touchy.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he did the same thing right back to her. Then, she asked before she lost her nerve, “So, I guess that means you and Joe are probably connected, too, right?”

  She understood vaguely that Joe had a job in the mafia, and what little bit of information she had been given was enough for her to draw her own conclusions. But really, she didn’t like doing that. She would much rather just be told, and then she knew for sure.

  “You could say we’re connected,” Cory said. “More me directly than him, or I’m working on it.”

  “Oh. And people keep saying he’s the Shadow, right? So, what does that mean exactly?”

  Cory chuckled. “A part of me thinks it’s better for you not to know all the details about what Joe does in this business, girl. And another part of me thinks … you probably wouldn’t give a fuck if you did know.”

  “Probably not,” Liliana agreed.

  “Still ain’t going to tell you, though.”

  Asshole.

  Annoying as hell.

  “You’re lucky Joe loves you,” Liliana mumbled her empty half-threat.

  Cory grinned. “I could say the same for you.”

  Except … Joe hadn’t told her that yet.

  “I was thinking pizza for dinner—Chicago-style,” Cory called from the living room. “How does that sound for you?”

  “Sounds—”

  It was the banging thrash of the front door being thrown open that stopped Liliana from saying more. She jumped up from the table where she had been flipping through a magazine at the same time she heard Cory curse.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Liliana!”

  Her fear instantly bled away.

  Joe.

  He met her in the hallway at the same time Cory came out from the living room.

  “Hey, man,” Cory said.

  Joe’s gaze was only on her, and Liliana wasn’t entirely sure that she liked what she saw staring back at her. Cold and distant Joe was back, it seemed. She could see it in the darkness of his features, and the stiffness in his posture.

  He tossed his brother a look. “Pack me a bag, and grab her shit, would you?”

  Cory didn’t even bother to ask questions.

  He wasn’t like Liliana.

  “You got it, Joe,” Cory said.

  The younger man headed for the stairs, and Liliana turned back to Joe.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Joe shook his head, and grabbed her jacket hanging on the hook by the door. “Here, put this on. We need to move you again.”

  No, Liliana wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not right now. She didn’t like that all of the sudden he showed up at his home with nothing more than a demand for her to leave. Likely to leave with him, sure, but still.

  Something felt wrong.

  Off.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Joe held out her coat.

  Liliana refused to take it.

  Letting out a harsh sigh, Joe said, “Just … I need you to listen to me right now, Liliana. Not question me, or anything else. Just listen.”

  “And I’m not moving until you tell me what in the hell is going on, Joe.”

  She wasn’t entirely sure how much time passed with the two of them staring at each other, and daring the other one to move or say something. A few seconds, but maybe more. Long enough for her to hear Cory moving around upstairs.

  Definitely not like his brother.

  She would never know Joe was anywhere around if he didn’t want her to know it. C
ory didn’t seem to give two fucks who heard him.

  “Where’s your phone?” he asked instead.

  Liliana pulled the device Theo had picked up for her out of her pocket, and instantly, Joe snatched it from her. He didn’t even look away from her when he swung the device, and smashed it into a useless bunch of pieces against the wall.

  Her gaze widened, and flew back to Joe. “What the fuck, Joe?”

  “Someone might be tracking it. It needs to go.”

  “It’s a burner phone, Joe. It’s not even my real phone!”

  Joe only shrugged.

  “Okay, now you really need to tell me what in the hell is going on.”

  “Liliana—”

  “Please just tell me, Joe,” Liliana said. “I’ve been sitting in this house for days wondering why I’m even here, and what’s going on. No one will tell me anything. I don’t like feeling alone and afraid, okay? And I think, so far, I have done really well about not being a bitch regarding all of this. I haven’t really demanded anything, or whatever. So, please, just tell me. It’s about me, right. It has to be, so I think, at the very least, I deserve to know something.”

  His fist clenched.

  His throat bobbed.

  Finally, he spoke, saying, “Rich Earl has gone off the grid.”

  Liliana stiffened.

  The cold spike of fear driving into her spine was only matched in force by the heavy weight of dread sinking low in her stomach. A feeling so thick and harsh that it made the bile in her stomach rise to the back of her throat. She could practically taste it on her tongue, and it made her want to be sick.

  It tasted like hell and fear.

  Like old blood in her mouth.

  Felt like a broken eye socket, and a busted mouth. Like black eyes, and bruises on her body. Like a sting in her scalp from her hair being ripped out, and a ringing in her ears that lasted almost two weeks before it started to fade away. Like an ache in her thighs from where they had been forced open, and scratches on her back from when she had practically fallen out of the car onto the pavement to get away.

  Just like that, with seven words from Joe, Liliana was thrust into a chamber of memories, and fear. Neither of which she wished for, or needed.

  And yet, here she was.

  “Hey, it’s all right,” Joe murmured.

  He’d come forward, and wrapped her in his embrace. Tight, secure, and snug. Warm, and safe. His coldness bled away, and he took those few seconds to stroke her face with his thumbs, and skim the top of her head with his lips. He tipped her head back, and his fingers wove into her hair to.