“I love you, too. Bye, Gwen.”
And the line went dead.
Two hours before his meeting with Sharon, she called and tersely told him she was changing the location. He felt he knew why; she couldn’t have him murdered in the hotel lobby.
It was dusk when he turned down the long, winding road to the remote beach house. If he was planning to ambush someone this would have been the kind of place he would have chosen, too. He pulled one Glock from his harness and took off the safety. Sable Palms, palmettos, and pines densely lined the shell drive, and he expected at any moment to see armed men burst from the foliage and open fire.
As he turned a bend in the drive, the native greenery gave way to a lushly landscaped yard with a two-story house on brick piers. He could see the dunes and sea oats beyond the house, and he could smell the heavy salt in the air. There was still plenty of cover for hiding gunmen, but he saw Sharon standing on the porch. He doubted she’d be within his firing range if a battle was about to take place—but then again, she probably wanted the pleasure of watching him die.
He cautiously holstered his weapon, and then he stepped from the car onto the drive. She was wearing a thin, lemon colored, gauzy beach cover-up that was excessively sheer, and underneath she had on what appeared to be a white thong, but she wasn’t wearing a bra or a bikini top. She’d obviously been sunning herself topless earlier in the day. Her skin had a rich, rose colored glow that revealed she had stayed in the sun slightly longer than she should have. Once again, she was working the sex appeal angle, making Micah believe, with a sigh of relief, that she wasn’t aware who tipped off Botachelli.
“You look surprised, Micah,” she stated with a little rise to her eyebrows. “Did you expect an army to greet you?”
“Should I have?”
She smiled and turned toward the front door, “I hope you put the safety back on—I’d hate for you to have an accident with that thing. After all, we are alone.”
“I don’t think you’re that stupid.”
She opened the front door and turned to motion him in, “Oh, handsome, I’m certainly not stupid, but I’m also not afraid of you.”
Then you are pretty stupid, he thought, but said nothing as he followed her inside.
The floors were polished pine and the foyer gave way to an expansive great room. The furniture appeared to be mahogany with wicker inserts along the backs and sides. Palm tree designs covered the cushions and there were abundant pillows ranging from cream to camel, from green to gold. She had the wall of sliding doors opened as the Atlantic breeze filled the house.
“What will you have to drink?” she asked as if this was a pleasant dinner party invite instead of a discussion about murdering her father.
“Nothing. Give me the information I need and I’m leaving.”
She laughed as she walked to the bar and grabbed a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “I guess that means I get to choose what you’re drinking. I forgot to tell you you’re staying the night.”
“I’m not staying—”
“Oh, Micah, you’re so smug and confident, I’m really going to enjoy stripping that armor off of you,” she said with a wink. She seated herself beside him on the couch, the lighting just right to make her covering extra sheer. She was, rather obviously, aroused; her nipples were hardened into tight pebbles. “Open this for me,” she demanded handing him the champagne.
He gave her a void and uncooperative stare.
“Please, open this for me,” she asked slightly nicer than before.
He clinched his jaw muscles in frustration, but then turned the bottle directly toward her chest and began slowly lifting the cork.
She was giving him a defiant expression as if she wasn’t afraid of his innuendo, but when the corked popped (although he held onto it) he watched her flinch and then swallow; she was more frightened of him then she was willing to show.
She took the bottle from his hands and then filled her glass. When she moved to his, he put his hand out over the rim. “Tell me something, Micah,” she stated as she waited for him to move his hand, “are you avoiding alcohol so you won’t lose control and shoot me?”
“Trust me, it isn’t for your benefit. I can control my urge to watch you die,” he stated evenly, “for now.”
“Then you might as well have a drink. It’ll help make your punishment easier to take.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Micah,” she continued in her sultry tone, “You never should have told your boss what you learned about my latest shipment.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Don’t make the mistake of playing me for a fool, darling—ever. Did you think I was stupid enough not to have someone else on the inside? I know how your boss got the information, and although I found it very clever for you to intercept my transmissions, I won’t make that mistake again, and of course even if I do, you’ll never, never-ever, tell anyone my plans again because it just isn’t worth what you’re getting ready to pay.”
“If you kill her, I won’t—”
“Oh, yes you will Micah, because I’m not going to kill her, but I am going to make sure that I hurt her, and you’ll know you are the person responsible.”
She picked up her phone from the coffee table and was bringing it to her ear. He knew she was getting ready to make a call to tell Giovanni what to do.
He was so fast she didn’t have time to react as he pulled the phone from her hand and ended the call. “I’ll kill you right now,” he warned, his free hand reaching for his gun.
“It’s your choice, Micah. I told him if he didn’t hear from me in fifteen minutes then she was to be executed. I called him just before you pulled in, so, let’s see, that gives you about five minutes to hand me back my phone and be grateful that it’s just going to be a little pain and nothing more.”
The phone felt frozen to his palm. He couldn’t give it back to her knowing that she would give the orders to hurt Leese, but he had to or it would cost him far more. He placed the phone back on the table. “You win, but don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever you want without question.”
“You’ll do that anyway, ignorance,” she chided him. “You will learn to obey me completely, but you won’t learn if you don’t pay.”
“P—please…” the word caught in his throat. “Don’t do it—I’ve learned my lesson.”
She rolled her eyes and picked up the phone and put it back to her ear. “Much better,” she stated quickly, evidently happier with the speed at which Giovanni answered the call. “He’s here with me right now. If I get interrupted on this call,” she said as she watched Micah’s hands clinching, fighting his urge to pull his guns and blow her away, “then I want you to kill her. I’m going to call you back in five minutes, if I don’t call you back, then it means he couldn’t handle being punished and you need to go ahead and finish this, but for now he’s got to pay for what he almost cost me this week. I want you to hurt her—”
Micah’s hand moved reflexively to snatch the phone from Sharon, but he stopped himself as he replayed her words in his head, “If I get interrupted…”
Sharon smiled as she took her free hand and grabbed his frozen gesture and placed his hand on the couch, keeping hers on his with a feather touch. She wanted to be sure he understood that strength on his part would be subdued by even the most infinitesimal leverage on her end.
“I don’t care what you do to her, except you aren’t allowed to give her a life-ending injury. Be creative, darling. I want something he’ll feel on this end when he sees it. I don’t care if you remove a finger, or put a nice scar across that pretty face, come up with something and I’ll call you back in five minutes so he can see what insubordination costs in my Family.” With the touch of the screen the call ended.
Micah had never been so close to the edge in his life without going over. The line was so defined and sharp in his mind that he felt he could literally see it as he t
eetered between restraint and murder. “You shouldn’t have told him to hurt her,” he said, swallowing hard.
“You’ve got to learn that I don’t play games, Micah. Whatever he deems as her punishment, you’re going to have to take it. One wrong move on your part and this will all be over. You’ll be more than happy I’m sure to put a bullet in me, but if you do then you might as well know that you’ve put one in her, too.”
The minutes ticked by at an unnerving pace when she finally pressed the screen and called Giovanni. “All right, Mr. Creative, let’s just see how dirty you play. I already hear her so I’m sure I’m going to like it. Send me the feed.” Sharon’s hand kept the phone turned to her so she could review what he’d done first.
Micah could hear the struggle and Leese’s cries without the visual, she was begging over and over for him to stop whatever was taking place. Everything inside him seemed to implode as the knowledge that he was responsible for what she was going through pierced his heart.
A huge smile spread across Sharon’s face as she stared at the screen. “Well, I have to admit, Giovanni, you did pick something he’ll definitely feel on this end. It’s not what I expected, but to tell you the truth, darling, I think it’s going to work even better. I’m getting ready to let him see the video—expect the call to end, but if I don’t call you back in five more minutes, you can finish what you’re doing and then kill her.”
Sharon handed the phone, face-down, to Micah. Leese’s pleas were louder as she begged Giovanni to stop. Micah’s hand was trembling as he turned it over, knowing no matter what he saw, he couldn’t kill Sharon. When he turned it over, his heart simply died in his chest.
The phone was far enough away for Micah to clearly see what was about to take place; Giovanni was nude between Leese’s legs. Her skirt and panties were already gone and he was trying to pin her arms with one hand as he worked to remove her blouse with the other. Micah could only watch in defenseless horror. He’d never in his life had nausea instantly well up inside him, but he was suddenly sick as he watched his beautiful wife beg the man on top of her to stop his advance. Giovanni appeared oblivious to her pleas as his hips descended.
“I’ll do anything—call him off!” came his desperate response.
Sharon smiled. “Giovanni, stop,” she ordered, but to no effect. “Giovanni, Fermati adesso!”
The sharply barked Italian words caused Giovanni’s face to turned slowly toward the camera, “You said—”
“I know what I said,” she replied acidly. “It’s enough for now. If he gives me anymore problems then she’s yours and you can do what you want.”
“I can do what I want anyway,” he shot back; his eyes were wild as he peered out from under hair that had tumbled forward in the fracas. A glimmer of sweat had begun to bead on him as he continued to hold down the crying woman.
“You. Are. Mine!” she roared. “You will follow orders or be shot!”
“What is wrong, mia regina? Sei gelosa?”
“If I have to call Caprizio…” she let the threat dangle in the air.
He backed into a seated position over his heels, exposing his erection for the camera, “Meglio?”
“Leave her alone. Is that clear?”
“Perfettamente,” he responded, angrily rising from the bed. The call ended.
When she lifted her eyes to meet Micah’s, his face was ghost white. “Now that we understand each other a little better,” she began confidently, filling his glass with champagne, “take off the guns.”
CHAPTER twenty
It had been a full week since the accident—at least I think it had been a week. I didn’t know for certain anymore. I spent most of my time weeping, dozing off only to wake and find that I was still inside of a nightmare. Sharon arrived at the house on the fourth or fifth day. She wouldn’t come upstairs. Instead, she ordered Jonathan to gag me and bring me down. I didn’t understand at first, but then I heard her on the phone; she was talking to Micah and she was merely keeping me silent until she would allow me to speak to him. As soon as she ended the call, she left. I knew she was heading for Hilton Head; I’d heard her tell Micah that was where she’d meet him.
That same night, I was allowed one brief moment to see video of Micah’s face and to speak to him before she ended our conversation. That was days ago and I had no idea what was happening.
Since the first day I woke in this house, Jonathan had been my main human contact. I’d heard him many times telling the others to stay out of the bedroom and to leave me alone. From the range of voices, I was certain there were now four men in addition to Jonathan.
Jonathan never said much to me after what was spoken the day he took me, but from the amount of arguments I overheard, he evidently didn’t get along with my other captors. He allowed me a total of five bathroom/stretching breaks a day, and he brought me three meals a day. I suspected he was the one preparing the food since they were Italian dishes. I wanted to refuse. I wanted to find some way to make him regret what he’d done, but I had to eat. I didn’t want food, but I accepted it with the knowledge that the baby needed it. I also suspected that he was either putting something in my food or water to put me out at night because after my conversation with Micah, he realized I had sleep issues. Since I last spoke with Micah, I’d been falling asleep each night.
But tonight was different. He came into the room before my scheduled break and he was carrying his phone; he wore a strange expression.
“We have a problem,” Jonathan stated as he set the phone down. “It appears your husband has done something to anger Sharon and now you are supposed to be punished for his disregard for her rules.”
I stiffened at the mention of punishment. I was dealing with mafia mentality. Punishment in their realm could mean many things, but whatever was about to happen, I knew it would be severe. I didn’t have the strength or the will left to be brave as my eyes filled with tears. “Do what you have to, but please Jonathan don’t hurt my son,” I begged as the tears washed down my face.
He pulled the chair next to the bed and sat for a moment simply studying my face. I could tell he was on the verge of saying something that was difficult for him. I braced for the worst, but then he surprised me.
“I cannot hurt you, Annalisa,” he whispered. He spoke again, but this time quieter, “I was sent here to protect you.”
I didn’t know what to say. It seemed so unbelievable to have heard those words that I started to wonder if I was hallucinating with my ears.
His demeanor seemed to soften completely. I knew, for however long it would last, I was dealing with Jonathan, not Giovanni.
He reached out and gently stroked my cheek, “But I have to make this look convincing and we do not have much time; I am going to take most of your clothes off.”
“NO!” I jolted back to reality. The man was a professional liar and this had to be some psychotic sick ruse he was using to undress me. He’d lied to me about everything else. I was certain that he was testing to see just how stupid I was, wondering if I’d fall for his tricks, again. “Don’t touch me! Please, Jonathan, I know what you’re planning. I’m begging you; please don’t do this to me.”
“I give you my word of honor that I will not penetrate you, but we only have a few minutes left and she is expecting to show your husband your punishment.”
“Show him! No, God, no—don’t do this to me.” I was becoming hysterical at this point. Micah would snap. He wouldn’t be able to stomach another man taking me.
Jonathan took my face roughly in his hand and tightened down on my jaw, “Look at me, Annalisa. Pay careful attention. That phone is going to ring and when it does she is expecting to see you cut or mutilated. I cannot do that to you and I do not have time to fake something without raising the suspicions of the other men in the house. Your benefactor would never forgive me. You are going to have to trust me, although I understand why you do not, but it is too late for that now.” He grabbed one of the straight-backed chairs by the dress
er and wedged the top of it below the door knob to keep the other men out.
My heart was beginning to pound and the room suddenly felt airless.
He turned to face me as his hands dropped low to unfasten his pants.
I squeezed my eyes shut and began to tremble; I didn’t want to see his body. Fragments of time passed like needles gouging into my skin, knowing that at any moment the nightmare would intensify.
When he touched me, my scream was instantaneous—but so was his response as his hand covered my mouth.
“Do not start screaming until I am ready,” he stated. “I told them I was supposed to punish you, but if they think you are nude, they may try to come in. You do not want them in the room, Annalisa.”
“No! No! No! Please,” I begged under his hand. I could feel him tugging off my skirt, but I couldn’t stop him.
“I will leave your blouse on until she calls, then I will attempt to remove it. You can fight against me, Leese, but do not thrash so much that you injure yourself or the baby.”
When he grabbed my panties, the only thing he said was, “I am sorry.”
I was freaking out. This couldn’t be happening. I closed my eyes again, tighter this time believing if I could just block everything out, it would all stop, it would all be over. When I felt his hand touch between my legs, I bit my tongue to hold in the scream. Yet, even in my panic, I knew something was wrong; his hand was there, but it wasn’t touching my body. Instead, something soft was being placed between my legs, and the surprise of it silenced me.
“I do not know if I am actually this strong, Annalisa.” He stated lifting a small, light blue piece of folded material to show me what he was doing. “It is my boxers,” he stated, placing it back between my legs. “Do not flail your legs too strongly, we do not want her to see this and we certainly do not want it to slip out from between us.” He pulled the nearby chair closer to the bed and placed the phone against the back rest and then carefully climbed between my legs. “I am going to be on you, but I will not put weight on the baby if I can help it. Do not be silent when I answer the phone,” he said with a faint smile. “If this was real, I am sure you would not be.”
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