“It is convenient, isn’t it? She’s not Italian of course but, well, you’ll have to settle.” I feel my jaw clench, but I keep my feelings to myself. “It’ll be in name alone anyway. You marry her, reinstate your original contract with the cartel. They’ll agree to your rules as far as flesh trade. You’ll have to make a few more examples, I’m sure, but they’ll agree, isn’t that right, Jacob?”
Jacob nods. “I have a list of the men who will oppose the end of the flesh trade. It’s very lucrative, as you know.” He takes an envelope out of his pocket and sets it on my desk.
I stand so Jacob is the only one still sitting. He slowly gets to his feet. “Shall I give my niece the good news, then?” He extends his hand for me to shake.
“Antonio will take you back to the mainland,” I tell him, pushing a button under my desk. A soldier opens the door within moments.
“Oh, all right then. Thanks.”
I nod.
Jacob awkwardly tucks his hand into his pocket, says goodbye to my uncle and leaves.
“You buy that crock of shit?” I ask my uncle.
“I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him, no, but the facts are the facts. Marry Scarlett and you’ll have sealed your deal with the cartel. It’ll leave Rinaldi wide open.”
“What time am I expected at the gala?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Eight. Bring the girl. Let them see her on your arm,” he pauses. “How did last night go by the way?”
He means the older couple. “Like it always does.”
“It’s done?”
“Has it ever not been done?”
He smiles. “Let’s focus on the cartel. Then we’ll hit Rinaldi.” He checks his watch. “I have to get back. Meeting in an hour.” He walks to the door but stops. “Oh, one more thing.”
“Yeah.”
“I heard Lenore talking to Dante about Mara.”
“Ah.”
“I didn’t realize he had anyone looking for her.”
“She’s Lenore’s granddaughter. It’s understandable she needs closure.”
“You need to let any hope for Mara go. It’s a waste of effort and resources. She’s dead, Cristiano. And better off, considering.”
“Dead is never better off.”
“You’ll drive yourself crazy if you don’t put this to rest.”
I check my watch. “I’ll see you tonight, Uncle.”
16
Scarlett
The first thing I see when I get upstairs is the veil. It’s folded and set on the foot of the single bed I slept on last night.
Picking it up, I smell detergent and see how much whiter the lace looks. I didn’t have a chance to wash it before the wedding day. The stains are gone too. No blood. Like it never even happened.
I’m glad.
Keeping it on my lap, I sit on the edge of the bed and look around. This is Elizabeth Grigori’s room. Cristiano’s little sister. She was five when she was killed. She’d have been fifteen now. Same age as Noah. And her little friend, what was her name? Mara. She disappeared. Seems strange if they took someone that they’d take Mara and not the daughter of their enemy.
And after all this time, I wonder if Cristiano is still searching for her. It makes me a little sad to think of it.
But then the door opens, and I leap to my feet. No knock, but I’m not surprised.
Cristiano stands in the doorway taking up the whole of it. He looks around the room and I wonder if he’s been inside here or if he avoids it. If it brings too many memories because it’s still decorated for a five-year-old little girl who loved both princesses and toy cars.
He shifts his gaze to mine before it falls to the veil I’m hugging.
“Lenore cleaned it,” he says, and I get the feeling again that he’s not used to being around people. Having to talk to people. It’s not that he’s awkward. You’d have to give a fuck to be awkward. He’s just abrupt.
“She did a good job. It’s like new.”
He nods. Cristiano is a man of very few words.
“Come out of here. I can’t talk to you in here. I need to get some things anyway.”
I do as he says, wondering why he put me in there at all. I walk across the hall to his bedroom, bringing the veil with me because I don’t know what to do with it otherwise.
“What was my uncle doing here?”
“Nothing,” Cristiano says, disappearing into the closet.
“Not nothing. Is he your partner now? Your connection to the Cartel? Is his son-in-law running the show? Because Felix Pérez is as much a liar and an opportunist as Jacob.” I give a bitter laugh. “Féfé Pérez running the show.”
“Féfé?”
“I couldn’t say Felix when I was little and the nickname stuck. Noah calls him that too. Also, I don’t like him, and it pisses him off so...” I shrug a shoulder.
He walks out of the closet carrying a garment bag. Before I can ask what it is, he asks me if I’m ready to go.
“Shopping?”
He nods.
“Why?”
“Do you want to wear that dress day in and day out?”
“No, but—”
“Besides, we need to get you a gown.”
“A gown? Why?”
“We’re going to a gala tonight.” He opens the bedroom door.
“A what?”
“It’s a children’s charity. I donated some money, and the gala should hopefully raise more.”
“You donated to a children’s charity?”
“Don’t look so shocked. Most of it lined the pocket of a politician we need on our side.”
“Ah, the angle.”
“Everyone has an angle. Even you, Little Kitten. Let’s go.”
I walk out. “I don’t have an angle.”
“No?” He falls into step beside me on the stairs.
“No.”
“What about getting your brother out of his cell? Isn’t that your angle?”
“That’s not an angle. An angle is some ulterior motive.”
“And you’re being nice to me because?”
I’m about to open my mouth to argue when one of his men meets us at the front door. “Chopper or boat, sir?” he asks.
“Boat. You’ll follow ours. Bring Alec.”
“Sir, we have—”
“Bring Alec.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cristiano takes his coat off the hook and realizes then I don’t have one. He puts his over my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to shrug it off. It smells like him. And it feels nice around my shoulders. Safe.
“It’ll be cold on the water.” He pushes it back on and we walk outside.
“Don’t you need one?”
“We’ll pick one up for you when we get to the shop then I can have mine back. And before you do anything stupid with it, it’s one of my favorite coats.”
“Got it. So, like I shouldn’t throw it overboard?” I ask as we walk out to where two speedboats are docked.
“You do and I’ll throw you in to get it.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Water’s cold this time of year.”
I roll my eyes.
He holds out his hand to help me on board.
In the distance I see a sailboat, too. It’s bigger than these. I look back at the house, at the island. “So, mafia business is going well? What makes the most profit? Trafficking drugs or people?”
“Get your ass on the boat, Scarlett.”
I take his hand only because I have to as the water’s a little choppy. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Can you swim?”
“Are you serious? If this thing—”
“Relax. I’m fucking with you.” He steps on board after pulling the ropes free that have been holding the boat to the dock. “And just so you know, I don’t deal in flesh trade. My family never did.”
“Oh.” I study him. “Really? What is that, like a code or something? Only drugs which by the way
also hurt people.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about and I advise you to shut the fuck up.”
“I’m curious. Explain it to me.”
He walks toward me, and I back up a step. “Ever hear the expression better to keep your mouth shut and let them think you’re an idiot, than open it and confirm their suspicions?”
“Fuck off.” I turn to walk away. He catches me by my arm and twists so I turn back to him. “Get off.”
“Be careful, Little Kitten.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Then put those baby claws away.”
“Fuck you.”
“Careful or I’m going to give you something you desperately need.”
“I don’t need a fuck, especially from you, thank you.”
“You’ll wish that’s what I had in mind.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
He leans in close. “Push me again. Just one more time and I’ll show you.”
I glare and my mouth, oddly and completely out of character, does as my mind instructs and shuts up.
He gives me one of his signature grunts, releases me, and digs keys out of his pocket.
“So, they’ll follow us?” I ask pointing to the three men who look like secret service in the next boat.
Cristiano nods and starts the engine. “You’ll want to sit down.”
“I’m fine,” I start, and I know he jerks the boat on purpose because he grins like a wildcat when I instantly land on my butt on the floor.
“Jerk,” I mutter as I maneuver to sit on one of the cushioned seats.
He gives me a smirk. “You should listen to your elders.”
“What are you? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“You’re not an elder.”
“I’m older than you. That makes me your elder.”
I shake my head, reminding myself to stay focused. I want some answers about my uncle, and I want to know his idea about Noah.
“Why don’t they just come with us?” I point to the boat that’s following close by.
“I don’t want to be crowded.”
“It’s not environmentally friendly of you.”
He looks at me his eyebrows raised like he’s asking really?
“What was your idea about Noah?” I ask over the sound of the engine and the slapping of the boat against the waves. “And can you slow down a little? We’re going to flip.”
“We won’t flip. Relax.”
I grip the side of the boat, knuckles white. “I don’t like this.”
He looks over at me, sighs and slows.
“Thank you.”
“You owe me one,” he says and returns his attention to steering the boat.
I watch him. Look at his broad, powerful shoulders as I slip my arms into his jacket. It’s cool on the water, almost cold, but he looks relaxed. My gaze slips lower to his ass and I remember seeing him naked. How I felt him hard against me last night.
I remember how he tasted like caramel and whiskey when he kissed me, and I remember how he looked with his eyes closed. Like our kiss was sustenance. Air.
“Noah will work for me,” Cristiano says, interrupting that train of thought.
“What?”
“Noah. He’ll train to become a soldier.” He looks back at me.
“He’s fifteen. He hasn’t even finished high school.”
“He’ll live in my house. Be educated. Have time to prove himself trustworthy. I won’t kill a kid, Scarlett. And from what I can tell of the boy, he could use a father figure.”
I snort. “Like you’re a good influence?”
“Better than your brothers or uncle.”
“That’s not a very high bar. He’s too young. I don’t want that.”
“I’m not asking your permission. I’ve already spoken with him and he’s very enthusiastic.”
“What? When?”
“Early this morning.”
“You mean he knew when I came to visit him?” He didn’t say a word.
“I made him swear not to say anything.”
“Let me guess, a test of loyalty.” He slows the boat as we near the port and I stand, walking over to him. I guess he told me his plan out on the water so I wouldn’t attack him. I don’t quite have my feet under me.
Cristiano nods, pockets the key and climbs out, then extends his hand to me.
“I’m fine. I’ll get out on my own.”
“Don’t be stubborn.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s the only way, Scarlett.”
I shove his hand away. “No, it’s not. You can let him go. That’s another way. He won’t come after you and you know it.” I look at my options, reaching for a pole for balance. But the wake of our security detail’s boat catches me off guard, making our boat bob wildly, and sending me toppling.
I scream, anticipating the splash of cold water or worse, the crashing of my face against the pole. Just as I feel the scrape on my forehead, strong hands grab the back of the coat I’m wearing, lifting me, setting me on the dock. The coat slips off my arms. I stumble when he releases me, so he catches me again, this time keeping hold of me.
“Jesus Christ. Are you hell bent on falling in?”
I’m panicked and can’t answer right away.
He must see it on my face because he exhales, shakes his head and pulls me close.
For a moment, I think he’s going to hug me. To comfort me. And I’m not sure what I’d do if he did that.
But he stops just short.
He pushes my hair back from my face, brushes his fingers over my forehead. “Just a scratch.” He holds me at arm’s length, squeezing my biceps. “You’re too fucking stubborn for your own good. You could have knocked your head into that pole.”
I touch the spot that feels a little tender, but my fingers come away clean.
“I don’t like boats.”
“I wouldn’t put you on it if it wasn’t safe.”
“It clearly wasn’t safe.”
“It was fine. You decided to be an idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot. You just told me you’re recruiting my fifteen-year-old brother to become a soldier. What kind of life will he have? I wanted to get him out of it, not embed him more deeply into it. It’s not fair, Cristiano. Not for him. Just let him go. Even if you keep me. Let him go.”
He doesn’t answer right away and for one millisecond I wonder if he’s considering it. But he gives a shake of his head. “I can’t do that, and you know it.”
“Sir,” a voice interrupts and I look up to find three SUVs lined up with men beside each one.
“Be right there, Antonio,” Cristiano says, handing him the discarded coat.
Antonio walks away and Cristiano turns to me. He wipes away the tears that I’m not sure are falling because of my near surprise swim or my getting upset about Noah.
“You’re all right. You’re safe.”
I shove his hands away. “I’m not upset because I don’t feel safe. I haven’t been safe in ten years. I’m upset because nothing will change. I’m upset because maybe it would have been better if you’d just had my uncle pull that trigger two more times.” I don’t mean it. Why did I say it?
“Dead is never better, Scarlett. Never.”
“I mean, ultimately, that’s what’s going to happen to my brother. To me.”
“God you’re fucking dramatic.” He pulls me toward the second SUV.
“Fuck you.” I resist all the way, and no one does a thing. Not one of the men gathered here. Not that I expect them to.
He sighs, wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me into the backseat. He rests his hands on my thighs and even for as high as the vehicle is, I still have to look up at him.
“Isn’t it better than locking him up in that cell?” he asks.
I try to shove his hands away, but just then he cocks his head, glances down.
Shit.
He must
feel the file I strapped to my leg. It seems so stupid now as he pushes the dress up a little on my thigh.
“What have we here, Little Kitten?” He takes the file out of its makeshift strap constructed out of hair ties and tests the point. He looks at me, eyebrows raised, then turns to the man behind him. “We’ll need a minute, Antonio.”
“Yes, sir,” Antonio says, turning his back as Cristiano climbs into the backseat and closes the door.
I fold my arms across my chest.
“What did you think you’d accomplish with this?”
“I don’t know, poke an eye out maybe?”
He smiles.
No, it’s more of a smirk.
He sets the file aside but before I can even register what’s happening, he flips me face down over his lap and smacks my ass so hard I cry out in shock.
“You need to learn to behave,” he says, adjusting my position, tucking me closer to him and smacking my other cheek.
“Ow! Let me up!”
“Not happening, Little Kitten,” he says just before flipping my skirt up.
He stops short the instant he does, sucking in a breath. Because I’m not wearing underwear. I didn’t have any.
“Let me up!” I reach back to at least cover my butt and he grabs both wrists in one hand.
“What’s this?” I hear laughter in his voice.
“I didn’t have underwear, you jerk! Let me up!”
He tsks and when I kick my legs, he shifts his to trap them between his thighs.
“We’ll put panties on our shopping list,” he says calmly before spanking me three times. “Although I’m tempted not to.”
I crane my neck to look up at him. He’s trying hard to keep a serious expression on his face. “Stop it. I mean it. And this is in no way funny.” My face feels hot.
“It’s funny from my vantage point.” He raises his hand to smack again and I squeeze everything tight, my eyes, my fists, my butt.
“What do you want from me?” I call out as I process the sting.
“Well, I’d like to turn your pretty little ass bright red for starters.”
“You’re a fucking Neanderthal.” I try to kick, but it does no good.
“And you have a very nice ass, Scarlett.”
“Fuck off.”
“Look at me.”
With This Ring: To Have and To Hold Duet Book One Page 11
