Dark Illusion

by Daniels, A. J.

  The smooth voice of Sam Smith croons from the front pocket of my jeans, I can’t help the grin spreading across my face when I answer.

  “Hi, babe.”

  Kai sighs, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that.”

  “Good. I don’t plan on ever stopping.” Shoving the pair of gloves into my pocket, I retrace my steps back through Siobhan’s house and out the front door. All of her neighbors work nine-to-fives so there’s no fear of anyone catching me here.

  “Did you find her?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll keep looking until I do. Something isn’t adding up about this.”

  “Like what?” I hear the telltale scrape of a chair against tile. A small smile curls my lips as I picture Kai settling in at the kitchen table with his morning coffee.

  “She turned her phone off. Siobhan is glued to that thing. It’s her lifeline. She never turns it off.”

  “Maybe she decided to take a last-minute vacation.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ll find her, Toni. If anyone can, it’s you.”

  “Why are you being so understanding about this? She manipulated you into thinking I was using you to get back at her.”

  Kai sighs, but it’s different than the one when I answered the phone. That one was dreamy, this one is more like defeat.

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I wish any harm to come to her.” I snicker and Kai laughs. “Okay, maybe a little. But I could see that she was hurting, Toni. She just found out that the man she’s been in love with not only doesn’t return those feelings but bats for his own team. Hell, I would’ve done the same thing if some chick threatened to take you from me.”

  “I love you.”

  “Right back at ‘cha, babe. Now go find her so you can come back and keep me company. We still have surfaces in this big house that need christening.”

  I laugh, “Don’t you do that when you first buy a house not when you’re about to sell one?”

  “Are you complaining?” I can practically picture his eyebrow raise through the phone.

  “No. Not at all.” I swallow hard, imagining all the surfaces I get to fuck him against.

  “Toni?”

  “Yeah,” I choke out.

  “Get back to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Asshole,” I grumble, pressing a palm to my aching dick while Kai just laughs before the line goes dead.

  I quickly hang up and reverse the car out of the driveway like a bat of hell, determined to have Siobhan found by the end of the day. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy, and sometimes the most logical reasons are the wrong ones.

  Siobhan

  “YOU’RE WHAT?” ANTONIO roars.

  I flinch, not at the ferocity of his tone but the hurt and betrayal lying just below the surface. I want to go to him. I want to wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhale his scent, and tell him that it’s not what he thinks. That I really am in trouble and that my father and Damien have been planning this behind my back for months, but I can’t. Damien’s grip around my waist is so tight that if I were to try to pull away now, it would draw attention to us. Attention that my father doesn’t need this close to Election Day.

  “We’re getting married next week,” Damien responds, the picture of calm as his fingers dig deeper into my waist. I wince but quickly cover it up, half hoping Antonio didn’t see it and half hoping that he did. He’s my only way out of this alive.

  My stomach sinks and I try to swallow past the lump in my throat when my eyes connect with Antonio’s and I see the moment he shuts down. Gone is the man I fell in love with. Gone is the man who danced in the rain with me, who spent hours sitting on the sofa with me watching football, my feet on his lap while I read whatever book had captured my attention at the time. Gone is the man who fucked me rough and dirty on the entryway table in my hotel room. I was in love with Antonio Moretti, but Antonio had never and now will never return my feelings because not only have I ruined any chance of us being together, but he is now in love with some guy named Kai.

  The man that now stands in front of me is the infamous bad boy of Toronto. The cold, calculating, unrelenting best friend to the Don of the mafia.

  “Let’s go,” Alessandro’s voice booms from next to Antonio. “The bitch isn’t worth it,” he adds with a glare in my direction, clasping Antonio’s shoulder.

  Huh, so Antonio hasn’t told anyone in the Famiglia about his choice and preference.

  Antonio looks like he wants to argue, to demand more answers. His fists clench at his sides, his nose flaring, eyes blazing. He darts a look to Damien’s hand curled possessively around me then back to meet my gaze. I silently plead with him to understand that this is not what I want. That I don’t want any of this. I am being forced into this by Damien and my father, but Antonio drops his gaze and with a slight shake of his head that’s barely noticeable, turns and follows Alessandro and Stefan out the banquet doors. Taking my last hope of escape and survival with him.

  Despite the music filtering through the speakers set up at each end of the makeshift stage, and the chatter of everyone around us, it’s quiet. The only sound I hear is the rapid pounding of my heart in my ears. My chin quivers, tears pooling in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not here.

  “Come, Siobhan. Let’s go greet our guests. It is our engagement party after all.”

  I stay rooted to my spot, still staring after Antonio and the guys long after the doors shut behind them, when Damien tries to turn me back toward the room filled with people I barely know.

  “I’m not marrying you,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, baby,” Damien breathes, his lips brushing the outer shell of my ear, his arms sliding around my middle making it look like we’re a couple just having an intimate moment at what’s supposed to be their surprise engagement party, but his arms squeeze almost painfully. “Yes, you will because you don’t want to see your father lose this election. Do you?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He chuckles. “Maybe later.” His one arm slips from around me, but the one around my back still lingers. “Don’t cause a scene, Siobhan. Be a good girl for your father,” he adds when I still don’t make a move back toward the room.

  Speaking of the devil, my father appears in front of me, a happy grin on his face.

  “Was that Antonio I saw leaving?” he asks, pulling me into a side hug.

  “It was,” Damien answers before I can form a response. “He was just giving his best wishes.”

  My dad pulls back, eyeing me closely. I try not to give anything away with Damien standing so close. Unfortunately, that means all I can manage is a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes and a quick nod.

  I’m relieved when my father goes back to discussing business with Damien. I wonder what he would say if he ever found out that the man he admires is blackmailing his daughter into marrying him. Would he even care?

  He is the one who pushed Damien on me in the beginning, but I can’t imagine he would have if he knew the kind of man Damien really was. I refuse to believe it. But when Damien and my father move farther to the side and lower their voices in conversation, my imagination starts running wild.

  No, there’s no way my father could have known what Damien is really like. He’s my father. I have to believe that if he knew, he would’ve protected me from the monster… not sold me. He catches me watching over Damien’s shoulder and when my eyes connect with his and I see the sorrow in their depths… I know. A sob escapes me at the cold realization that my father knows everything, that he absolutely did trade his daughter’s freedom, my freedom, for his own political gain.

  A quick glance around the big banquet room tells me that if I ever hope to escape this, if I ever hope to have a life that’s mine, that’s not dictated by anyone but me, then I have to make a move. Now. Before it’s too late.

  Sucking in a deep breath and steeling my shoulders, I grip the side
of my dress in a fist, ensuring that I won’t trip and fall over the long material, and turn to make a dash for the nearest exit. I don’t get more than a few feet when a hand wraps around my bicep and yanks me back into a solid chest.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Damien growls, spinning me to face him, his other hand gripping my other arm.

  “It’s hot in here. I was going to get some fresh air to cool down a bit.” I’m surprised when my voice comes out even, giving nothing away of the turmoil I feel on the inside.

  Dread settles in the pit of my stomach when Damien’s eyes narrow, not buying my excuse, and his grip tightens around my arm. His lips curl into a smile when I wince at the pain.

  “It’s time to go, princess.”

  “But I…” I sigh. “Can I at least say goodbye to my father?”

  Damien doesn’t respond to my question, he just turns and drags me by one arm out the building and into a waiting car. “Your father is no longer any of your concern,” he says minutes later when we’re a good distance away from the city.

  “He traded me, didn’t he?” My voice is small in the back of the town car. “He bought the votes he needed, and I was the payment.”

  The air changes. It’s thicker. Darker. I don’t think I’ll survive if I were to turn and look over at Damien right now. It’s one thing to hear the truth, but it’s another thing entirely to see it written on someone else’s face.

  I don’t hear his response as I continue staring out the window, watching the cars in the other lane pass us by. I don’t have a lot of regrets in life. I try to see every negative as a lesson and try to find a way to turn it into a positive, even if it’s small. But one regret I do have is not telling Antonio how I feel. I regret using him even when I found out his secret because I knew he would never be able to deny me if he didn’t want the Famiglia to find out. I was the villain in our story and I hate it. Maybe this whole thing with Damien is my punishment. Maybe I’m meant to endure this new hell because I played with the hearts of two men who are perfect for each other in every way.

  Everything about this is fucked up, and yet… maybe it’s not. Not really. How many times do people judge others based on what they look like. Antonio, with his tattoos, skull rings, and permanent scowl may wear a suit most days, and he gives off the bad boy vibe. The don’t fuck with me aura. But once I got to know him and stripped away his various layers, that’s not who he really is. He’s sweet, kind, and protective. He would drop everything if someone needed him. And okay, yes, he’s killed people and I wouldn’t paint him as an angel, but despite all that, Kai is a lucky man to have snatched him up.

  Damien is clean-cut, has no tattoos that I know of, hasn’t killed anyone – I think – and yet look at what he’s done. I know both men have their flaws, some would argue that they’re alike in most ways, but to me they couldn’t be more different. I feel safe when I’m with Antonio. When I’m with Damien, I feel like a character in a horror movie. Knowing there’s a killer out there and constantly looking around every corner, but never truly knowing when they’re going to strike. I just pray that Antonio realizes the truth and finds me before Damien strikes.

  I like living, but I have a feeling the more I fight Damien the more imminent my death becomes. And I plan on giving him the fight of his life, or rather, of my life.

  ***

  Antonio

  A waste of my fucking time. That’s what the last twenty-four hours have been. Had I known that Siobhan was not really missing but playing house with some rich asshole, I would’ve stayed home. I could be snuggled up in bed beside Kai, watching his little facial expressions as he reads on his Kindle while I pretend to watch the game on the TV set up on the dresser opposite the bed.

  It’s my own damn fault anyway, for thinking there was even a shred of possibility that she has changed. That she is trying to move away from the self-serving, stuck-up bitch she always was. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. When it was just the two of us, Siobhan was capable of showing a softer side. One where she dropped the image of Prime Minister’s daughter and was just… Siobhan. The girl who scrunches up her button-nose when she laughs, who plays up the girly-girl image in public but secretly loves camping and getting dirty. The girl who would spend hours on the back of my 4x4 ATV while we explored the forest behind my house when we were teenagers.

  If I didn’t know that I’m so far gone over Kai already, I would think I was in love with Siobhan. But in truth, I think I grew to enjoy her friendship over the years, maybe even rely on it. Yes, I used her to hide who I was – even from myself – but she wasn’t connected to the Famiglia. She knew about us and what we did. Siobhan became a sounding board when I needed it, and an escape when it was necessary to clear my head of business.

  The city air has an unusual chill to it for a May evening when the guys and I step out of the event venue. I’m so lost in my mental ramblings about Siobhan that I don’t immediately notice when the guys stop moving toward the car and I walk into Alessandro’s broad back.

  “The fuck, Alex.”

  When I don’t get a response, I look up, and that’s when I notice all of their attention is farther down the street to where a black town car is parked. Damien has Siobhan by the arm and is dragging her toward the car while her father just watches on. I don’t think much more of it than Siobhan being stubborn and refusing to go home. That is until she begins fighting against his hold while he forces her into the car.

  “Is he?” Stefan begins, then curses when Alessandro and I take off in a dead run toward where Damien has now successfully forced Siobhan into the back seat.

  Tires squeal as a black SUV pulls up in front of us seconds before the car Damien and Siobhan are in takes off. “Get in!” Braxton yells from the driver’s side. We all scramble in and Braxton has the car in drive and following Damien before the last door of the SUV clicks shut.

  ***

  Siobhan

  It’s not long before the car jerks to a stop, but all the windows are tinted and no matter how much I squint, I can’t see where we are. Damien grips my upper arm in a painful hold, pulling me out of the car and behind him. Wherever we are, it’s dark, until Damien flips a hidden light switch and then I have to squint against the sudden blindness. When my vision finally focuses, I notice we’re in an airplane hangar. A small two-seater sits ready to go in the middle. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in that death trap with him. I’d rather take my chances and try to fight my way out.

  Using what strength and stealth, Siobhan?

  I twist this way and that, trying to get out of Damien’s grip around my arm when he yanks open the door and begins to heave me up into the plane. I plant both feet firmly on the outside and push back with as much strength as I can muster. And then the lights flicker off, catching Damien’s attention and giving me the little bit I need to push back against him, throwing him off balance and dropping me in the process.

  Okay, not my smartest idea.

  I shuffle to my feet and immediately seek shelter behind a big stack of boxes to the side. Something tells me that whatever, or whomever killed the lights is not here to party or join us on Damien’s little trip to God knows where.

  “Where are you, you little slut?” Damien hisses.

  I crouch down lower when the top of his head glides by my hiding spot.

  “Now, now,” a familiar voice coaxes. “Is that anyway to talk to your grim reaper?”

  “Who the fuck are you? What do you want?”

  I have to slap a hand over my mouth to stop the giggle from escaping at the sound of sheer panic in Damien’s voice. Apparently the big, bad wolf isn’t so tough after all.

  “Your worst nightmare,” the other man says right before a gunshot rings out in the small space.

  Damien’s body drops to the side of the boxes, his lifeless hand falling just inches away from me, causing me to shriek in surprise. I hadn’t expected him to be so close. Thank God the lights were out.

  “Siobhan?!”
<
br />   “I’m here,” I squeak, peering out from behind my sanctuary The lights flick on again, revealing Antonio and Braxton standing just on the other side of my hiding spot. Antonio places the gun back in the waistband of his pants before advancing closer to me. I don’t think twice before running into his arms and pressing my cheek against his chest. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me”

  His arms tighten around me. “Are you okay?”

  I nod against his chest. “Kai must not be very happy that you keep coming to my rescue,” I say before the realization dawns on who’s standing around us.

  “Who’s Kai?”

  We both freeze at the sound of the other voice. Fucking shit. I momentarily forgot Braxton was with them, standing not five feet away.

  “Shit. Sorry,” I whisper to Antonio who’s so pale, he looks like he just saw a ghost.

  Fucking perfect, Siobhan. You couldn’t keep your big mouth shut, could you?

  Antonio is unnervingly silent as the three of us get into Braxton’s blacked-out SUV and head back to the city. By the time we get to my place on Farrell road in Vaughan, Antonio looks like he’s barely keeping down whatever food he had eaten today.

  “You going to be okay?” I ask, wearily stepping out of the vehicle when Antonio opens the door for me. He doesn’t say anything until we reach the door of my lonely five-bedroom house and I have to repeat the question.

  He gives me a clipped nod. “Bye Siobhan,” he grits out, making his way back to the idling vehicle with his head low.

  ANTONIO

  THE STING. THE bite of pain was like the snick of the lock being disengaged on the cage that held twenty years of pent up anger, frustration, envy… guilt.

  It all bubbles up to the surface. Vibrating just beneath my skin. Threatening to consume me. I feel like a raging bull and Braxton is the red flag waving in front of my face. I act on pure impulse, my right fist already flying. Realization dawns a second too late.