No, not really. Overcoming the knowledge that her grandfather had planned to marry her off to a sadistic murderer was going to take more than a three-mile treadmill run.
She gave her best fake smile. “Full speed ahead.”
She could tell he didn’t believe her cheery attitude. It hadn’t been her best lie, but she was thankful he didn’t give her false platitudes. That her grandfather’s treachery included giving her to a serial killer couldn’t be sugarcoated.
“For someone who’s lived in London for most of your life, you have a very American way of speaking.”
“I watch a lot of American television and movies. Also, my mother was from the US.”
“Maryland. Right?”
“How did you—” She shook her head. “Silly question. Of course you know everything about me.”
“Not everything. In fact, other than the most basic information, you’re a mystery.”
“My grandfather’s doing. Besides, there isn’t anything interesting about my life.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t really do anything.”
“Events don’t make a person interesting. It’s who they are and what’s inside them that makes them interesting.”
His words surprised her. Jonah Slater seemed so tough and hard, but his answer had been insightful and sensitive.
She didn’t want to like this man. Their acquaintance would be temporary. Once the snowstorm passed, she would start a whole new life, far away. Yet she found herself being drawn to him. He really was quite handsome with his green eyes, dark, slightly unkempt hair, and unsmiling, sensual mouth. A few inches over six feet, broad-shouldered and hard-bodied, but not overly muscular. The image of his half-nude sweating body wasn’t one she’d be able to get out of her mind for a long while. Not that she wanted to.
If she were a normal girl with a normal life, she’d definitely be interested in knowing more about him.
She took a breath. She might not trust him enough to tell him what she knew about her grandfather, but she needed to tell him this. He deserved to know. “I have a confession.”
His eyes went sharp. “What kind of confession?”
“We’ve met before.”
“Now that’s something I think I’d remember.”
She had never considered herself particularly brave. Arranging her abduction and Carlos’s arrest had been the first true act of grit she’d shown since she was fifteen years old.
She swallowed a nervous lump. “It was years ago, at your home. A birthday party for your oldest brother.”
Something grim tightened his face, and Gabby swallowed harder. His memory of that day was probably horrific. And she was responsible for it.
“It was my fault.”
Confusion replaced the grimness. “What was your fault?”
“That you were caught. That you and your brother were…disciplined.”
“I still don’t—” Comprehension finally hit and was quickly followed by a surprising amusement. “So that’s how the old man found out Eli and I had gotten into the liquor cabinet. You ratted us out.”
“I’m so sorry. My brother had pushed me down and told me to go away. I was mad at him and wanted to get him in trouble. But that’s no excuse for what I did.”
“Carlos was there, too?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I had a belly full of alcohol and got my ass beat. Things like who was around to witness my humiliation got put on the back burner.”
“I never would have told on you if I’d had any idea what your father would do.”
“How did you even know about what Mathias did?”
“I was looking in the window.”
“Sorry you had to see that, but getting my ass beat by Mathias was almost a daily thing that year. If you hadn’t ratted us out, he would’ve found some other reason.”
“Why?”
“Because my old man was a sadistic bastard who thrived on being a bully.”
“But why?”
“Haven’t you figured that out by now? People like Mathias and your grandfather don’t need a reason to do what they want. They live by their own perverted rules. People are pawns to use or victims to destroy.”
“Were you ever close to your father?”
“No.” He glanced around the gym. “Are you through down here?”
“Yes.”
“Come eat. I put together some soup and sandwiches.”
“You don’t have to fix my food. I can do it.”
“Good. You can do dinner.”
The panic must’ve shown in her eyes, because he said, “Don’t worry. All you have to do is throw it into the microwave.”
“Learning to cook is on my list, but I’d hate to use you as a test subject.”
“You have a list?”
“Absolutely.” She grimaced and added, “Actually, it’s a mental list. I never wrote things down since I knew it could be confiscated at any time.”
“What would have happened if your grandfather had discovered your plan to escape?”
She shivered at the thought. “The small amount of freedom I had would have become nonexistent. And I’m sure he would have brought in more men to guard me.”
“Was he physically abusive?”
Jonah waited for her to call him out on the inappropriate question. He couldn’t say why he asked. It sure as hell was none of his business, but for whatever reason, he needed to know.
“No, he wasn’t. Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
“When I was younger, I had what he called a ‘wild spirit.’ On occasion, he would shake me until my teeth rattled. Other than that, he never touched me.”
He was glad to hear she hadn’t suffered physical abuse, but there was something she wasn’t telling him. The tension around her mouth hadn’t been there until he’d asked the question. He wanted to delve further, but once again was reminded that it was none of his damn business.
“Come eat lunch.”
“Okay if I shower first?”
“No problem. Twenty minutes enough time?”
“Yes. But you can go ahead. I’m used to eating by myself.”
“No problem. I’ll wait for you.”
Another tightening around her mouth told him she didn’t like his answer. Tough shit. They still had things to discuss.
She walked from the room with effortless elegance. The little he had read in her files included the training she’d received from some of the world’s most-famous tutors. Had that training included how to conduct herself in any situation? Perhaps even to lie?
Still, wouldn’t she be more willing to talk about herself to one of the people who’d helped her escape? The things she’d shared were flimsy and uninformative. She had to know more. It was Jonah’s responsibility to get that information from her before she began her new life.
He’d been gentle with her, allowing her to set the pace. After lunch, that would have to change.
***
Refreshed after an abbreviated shower, Gabby dressed in a long-sleeved white V-neck pullover and black jeans. She was amazed at the amount of clothing in her closet. Most was casual, but there were sweaters, shirts, and blouses, along with slacks and jeans. Several pairs of shoes lined the bottom of the closet. The dresser drawers held lingerie, nightgowns, bathing suits, and workout wear. The bathroom was equally well equipped. Whoever had supplied these things for her had gone to a lot of trouble and expense.
She entered the kitchen and found that Jonah had managed to surprise her once again. Sitting beside a bowl of steaming vegetable soup and a thick ham sandwich were a notebook and pen.
“What’s this?”
He turned from looking out the window and gave her his usual solemn look. “You said you never wrote your wish list down in case it was found. Thought you might want to start. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
A lump formed in her throat. Ridiculous that a spiral-bound notebook and a cheap pen co
uld cause such an emotional reaction. But it did. For the first time in years, someone had given her a gift out of thoughtfulness and nothing more.
“Thank you.”
As if he realized she was feeling overwhelmed, he sat across from her and dug into his lunch. Gabby did the same, keeping her eyes on her meal, but every so often, her gaze would veer to the notebook, and she would imagine how she would fill the pages. She couldn’t wait to get started.
Chapter Twelve
Rome, Italy
Bianchi Compound
Rudolph Bianchi half shuffled, half hobbled to the brown leather recliner, his favorite chair in his den. He eased into it, letting out a loud groan once he landed. He was alone, so there was no need to hide the pain his aching joints were causing him. If he had been in public, he would have put on a healthier façade. There was enough speculation that he was in poor health. There was no need to add fuel to the fire. Filthy buzzards would love to go ahead and bury him so they could take over his empire. As long as he had breath in his body, no one was touching what was his.
With shaking hands, he lifted the cellphone and pressed a speed-dial key to call his oldest enemy. He hated Luis Mendoza with an all-consuming passion. The man had stolen what was rightfully Rudolph’s. Forgiveness was a foreign concept to a Bianchi, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t barter, trade, or cheat to get what he wanted. He and Mendoza each had something the other one wanted. It had taken years, but they had finally been on the way to achieving their respective goals. And now, he didn’t know anything. Being in the dark did not sit well with him.
The instant the phone was answered, Rudolph demanded, “Well, what have you learned?”
“Hola, Rudolph. How are you?”
“Don’t play games with me, Luis. Where’s your granddaughter?”
“I don’t know.”
“And why not? I was under the assumption that she would be easy to find. It’s been two days since she was taken and you still know nothing? I’m sending men to help you look.”
“No!” Luis said sharply. “Too many men will attract unwanted attention. We’ve narrowed down the location. There are obstacles impeding our reaching her. It’s only a matter of time before we have her.”
“What kind of obstacles?”
“Nothing to be concerned with. It’s just a slight delay. My people have assured me we will have her soon.”
“Very well. But you will bring her here when you find her. She needs to be close-by anyway, in case complications arise. I will ensure this never happens again.”
“She’s my granddaughter, Rudolph. I say where she goes.”
“And I have a vested interest in her welfare.”
“I’ll keep you updated. The instant she’s been secured, I’ll notify you.”
“I’ll give you another week. If she’s not found, I’m taking over.”
The silence on the other end of the call was telling. Rudolph knew Luis was barely holding on to his infamous temper. All of this would have been amusing if it hadn’t been so infuriating. The girl had to be found!
“I’ll call you soon.”
Rudolph opened his mouth to offer more advice but snapped it shut when the line went dead. Insufferable bastard!
If the girl wasn’t found soon, he would take the matter into his own hands. Agreement be damned. He should have taken over long ago instead of allowing Luis to have a say in the matter. Gabriella might well be the man’s granddaughter, but she was much more to Rudolph. Once she paid her grandfather’s debt, Luis could do with her what he wanted. What happened to her afterward was of no interest to him. If anything, her death would make things easier all around.
But first... He nodded unconsciously. Yes, first she would make right what her grandfather had stolen from him decades ago.
***
Valencia, Venezuela
Mendoza Estate
Luis unlocked the door and entered his private sanctum. After speaking with that lout Bianchi, he needed the jagged edges of his temper soothed. Nothing could do that like a walk through his glorious treasures.
He used to allow others to come in and take in the beauty. Flora had often enjoyed their private time together here. On occasion, Stephan had dined with him here, too. He had once invited Carlos, but the young idiot hadn’t appreciated the beauty. He had wanted to know the value of each piece. Greedy, ungrateful young whelp! Luis had demanded he leave and had never invited him to return.
If there was a family member who might appreciate the beauty, it would be Gabriella. He had thought once to invite her inside, just so she would understand, perhaps be less resistant when the time came. He had changed his mind. Her understanding wasn’t a necessary thing. Besides, he would ensure her cooperation quite easily without making any kind of concession. The girl was like clay, malleable and easily manipulated.
Many people knew of his collection. His home was filled with fine art and priceless artifacts from all around the world. Often, when he held his famous parties, his guests were given a tour of his home. Showing off his riches was one of his few vanities.
Few, however, knew of his secret obsession. The ones who did—private collectors like him—understood his need to hide and protect what he valued most. Appreciating the incredible beauty of each piece, as well as the intense desire to own more.
The walk through the softly lighted hallway and into the main room took longer than it used to take. Luis couldn’t decide if that was because he was older or because he stopped more frequently to admire one piece or another. He did know that the older he became, the more he enjoyed being here among his treasures. The quiet solitude soothed him like nothing else could. There was history, romance, and wealth in each piece. He had carefully chosen each item for his private collection. He knew each one’s history, where it had come from, who it had once belonged to, and in some instances, who had touched it. Each item had been chosen for its beauty, simplicity, or elaborateness, as well as its significance in the world. Collectors all over the world would kill to have his treasures.
He loved each item as if the seed from his loins had created each of them. They were his one and only love, his one true passion.
At last, he reached the center of the room. The soft glow of the spotlight shone down on the silken pillow. The emptiness mocked him, called him a failure. He refused to rise to the bait. The self-censure would do no good. Yes, he had made mistakes, but he had done everything he could to rectify them. The emptiness was a reflection of other’s failures, not his own. Had his son lived up to his promise and obeyed his father, this pillow would possess what it had been meant for. Instead, selfishness had cost Javier his life, and Luis had lost what he wanted above all things.
Gabriella was the key to his goal. She alone could achieve his dream. Her disappearance put a hitch in his plans, but he had overcome many obstacles already. This was just one more that he would triumph over. Great achievements were never reached without suffering and trials. He wouldn’t fail this time. He had waited too long, endured too much.
The most maddening part about not having this particular treasure wasn’t that it was taking so long to acquire. It was that the piece really belonged to him, not Bianchi. Luis had earned it. The lack made him feel common. Like any other collector who sought to obtain an item and lost out to another bidder. He wasn’t like any other collector. What was contained within these walls was his, only and always his. That was why this elusive item was so infuriating. He coveted what already belonged to him, yet was possessed by someone else. Rudolph Bianchi, with his wrinkled ugly hands, got to touch what should have been his. That wasn’t right.
Sighing with longing, he reached out and touched the empty space. Coldness penetrated his fingers, and rage exploded within him. It wasn’t right or fair. The indignity was unbearable. He had to have what belonged to him!
The fury fueling him, he marched back through the room with the energy of a much younger man. He would find Gabriella, and she would fulfill her destiny
. Whoever got in his way would die.
***
Colorado Mountains
Chewing her lip in concentration, Gabby scribbled in her notebook. For the past few hours, she had been immersed in the delightful pastime of not only dreaming of the future but also being able to write it down. There was something so satisfying about putting her thoughts and desires into words.
For so long, she had carefully guarded all her thoughts, hopes, and dreams, knowing if they were discovered, she would be guarded even more carefully. Even Raiza hadn’t known about all of them, though that was more for her protection than Gabby’s lack of trust. If it was discovered that Raiza had not only encouraged Gabby to dream about her future, but had worked hard to prepare her for that eventuality, she would have been dismissed, or worse.
She missed her friend more than she could say. For almost twelve years, Raiza had been her mentor, teacher, and only confidant. With her unique blend of compassion and no-nonsense realism, she had prepared Gabby in the only way she knew how. With a military and secret-police background, Raiza had trained her protégé to be ready for any eventuality. Unbeknownst to her grandfather, Gabby had learned what she needed to know to survive. Thankfully, her friend had also taught her patience, claiming that waiting for the right time to strike was just as important as knowing what to do when that moment came.
But last year, not long after Gabby had returned from her trip to the United States, where she’d met Kathleen, her dear friend had suffered a fatal heart attack. The shock and grief had been overwhelming, but the event also had given her the impetus to finally make her escape. She’d had no one left.
“Feel like talking?”
Jonah stood in the doorway. He had been surprisingly sensitive, seeming to understand her need to be alone with her thoughts.
She tried to see the young boy in him—the one she had met years ago. Other than his eyes, an unusual shade of deep green, she saw no similarities. A decade and a half had passed, so maybe that was the reason. She got the feeling it was more to do with Jonah’s life experiences than anything else. He looked tough and uncompromising without a hint of innocence or softness.
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