Claiming What's Mine
Page 9
Victor doesn’t say much. He seems to be quietly absorbing everything. I tend to throw a lot of information at parents because there are so many great things happening at Lincoln High and in the surrounding community.
As we arrive at the double doors for the auto mech area, I slide the key into the lock. I don’t want to rush through the last part of the tour, but there’s something I don’t like about this man.
As I turn the handle, he roughly grabs me from behind and rests something on my throat. His other arm snakes around my waist and hauls me against his hard body.
Shock and panic grip me. “What-what are you doing?”
Victor’s warm breath drifts across my ear. “You need to listen very carefully, Sofia, and do exactly as I say.” He presses the cold metal further into my jugular until it breaks skin and continues in a low, sinister voice. “You won’t enjoy the consequences if you don’t, and I’d hate to see blood spilled all over your pretty shirt.”
A knife.
He’s holding a knife to my neck.
My mind empties. All I can focus on is the warm blood trickling down my throat.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I’m afraid to deepen the cut by breathing or swallowing or nodding. Tears fill my eyes as he presses down harder. “Yes,” I whisper.
“Good girl. No one needs to get hurt.” He chuckles. “At least not yet, they don’t.”
“What do you want?”
The heaviness of the blade stays firmly pressed against me. If I try to move, it’ll slice right through my jugular. The way he holds both me and the knife suggests this man is a professional. Too late, I realize I should have listened to the warning bells ringing in my head instead of dismissing them as paranoia.
“There’s a message that needs to be passed along to your father.”
“My father?” I ask, confused about why he matters right now.
“Yes, Enzo Valentini.” Again, he chuckles. “Did you think we weren’t aware of the connection? That we weren’t keeping tabs on you? That we couldn’t take you anytime we wanted?” His paper-dry lips press against the side of my face. The smell of cigarette smoke tinges my nostrils, making me nauseous. “Were you foolish enough to think that you could change your name and no one would realize who you were? That you couldn’t be dragged back into your father’s world if we had need of you?” He makes a soft clicking sound of admonishment with his tongue.
“Sorry, sweetheart, it doesn’t work that way. Although, you certainly made it easy. No security or guards. Out in the open, ready for the taking. All I had to do was make an appointment, and you came right to me.”
Spikes of fear careen through my body because everything he said is true. I’m used to moving anonymously through my life. It never crossed my mind that someone would come to the school and hurt me.
Closing my eyes, I try to calm my racing thoughts by taking deep, even breaths. “What do you want me to tell my father?”
“All in due time.” He loosens his hold on my waist and snakes a hand up my body to cup my breast. “I’d heard you were a real stunner. Now we get to meet in person. Lucky us.”
I try shifting out of his grasp, and he presses the knife harder. Stilling my movements, I whimper in pain.
“Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn’t wiggle around too much if I were you.” He squeezes my breast, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh.
“Please, don’t,” I plead.
He kisses the side of my face. “If another chat becomes necessary, I’ll do far more than mark up your neck.” Again, his fingers bite into me. “Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Nothing pisses me off more than having to repeat myself.”
Victor drags his tongue across my cheek. “You tell Enzo that the next time he steals a shipment from us, his beautiful daughter is going to disappear. But don’t worry, you’ll be returned one piece at a time.” He snickers. “Of course, we could always take a road trip to Philadelphia. Wouldn’t it be fun to surprise your sister with a visit?” He laughs at his own joke and continues. “Neither of you are safe. If Enzo values his family, he’ll return what he stole from us. Understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely, repulsed by the way he licked me and terrified by his threats. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray for him to leave now that he’s delivered his message. I cry out when his teeth sink into my earlobe.
“Good. I told them that with two college degrees, you were one smart cookie. Maybe we’ll run into one another again, hmm? You have such a charming little house. Although that alarm system isn’t so good. Very easy to circumvent.” He exhales a harsh, nicotine-tinged breath. “You’re a restless sleeper. Did you know that? Many nights I’ve watched you toss and turn.” He presses his face against my neck. “I know what could help with that.”
My knees weaken at the thought of this bastard breaking into my house, hovering over me, and watching me sleep. I have no idea if he’s telling the truth or trying to scare me.
“There’s nowhere you can hide that I can’t get to you.” To emphasize his words, he viciously pinches my breast. His hand and the knife disappear.
Unable to move, I keep my eyes tightly screwed shut while struggling to accept that this ordeal—this attack—is over. Bile rises up in my throat as the staccato clicks of his wingtips striking the tile floor grow fainter.
Shock takes over, and my knees give out. I crumble to the floor in a heap.
My fingers tremble as I gingerly touch the cut on my neck. Pulling my hand away, I look down at it. There isn’t as much blood as I’d imagined. As I sit on the floor, I realize that nothing but silence surrounds me. On shaky legs, I force myself to stand and bolt toward the stairwell at the other end of the hall, in the opposite direction from which we came. I can’t chance running into Victor Dmitriyev again.
Although I’m willing to bet he’s long gone.
He did what he came here for.
Now he’ll wait for me to deliver his message.
Chapter Fifteen
“Until the situation has been resolved, you’ll move back to the compound immediately.” Papa adds, “And you’ll also take a leave of absence from your job.”
“You can’t be serious!” I shake my head. “I’m not moving to the compound. And I won’t quit my job!”
Papa leans across his desk, rage filling every line of his face. A muscle ticks near the corner of his eye. He’s holding onto his temper by a thread.
I understand that his fury is fueled by fear. He’s livid that someone dared to lay hands on me and threatened his family. But still, I can’t be expected to stop living my life.
“Sofia,” his voice cracks like thunder in the silence of the office, “I will not allow anything else to happen to you. Do you understand me?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that whatever he took from the Russians is precisely why I was ambushed and threatened. But I don’t. I refuse to lash out at him for wanting to keep me safe.
Attempting to wrangle my heightened emotions, I suck in a deep breath and slowly blow it out. Then I try again. “Papa, I’m not leaving my home. Nor will I take time off from work. I love my job too much to jeopardize losing it.”
What I’ve accomplished in my career has nothing to do with the Valentini name. And I’m proud of that. I secured my position as a counselor because of my hard work and dedication. I won’t allow my father’s business dealings to take it away from me.
“There are other jobs, Sofia. We’ll find you another, I promise. This family has plenty of connections all over the city. All over the goddamn country, for that matter. I’ll buy you a damn school if that’s what it takes.”
“What? No! I don’t want that!” I exclaim. “You can’t just buy a school. It doesn’t work that way.” Yelling isn’t going to get us anywhere, so I soften my tone to keep the argument from escalating. “Papa, please. I love this job, and I don’t want to step away from it. There has to be another way, something
else we can do until the situation is handled.”
He bangs his fist on his desk. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Huffing in frustration, he throws his hands in the air. “You’re just like your mother!”
A smile trembles around the corners of my lips in spite of the seriousness of this situation. Whenever I would dig in and refused to cave during my childhood, my father would throw his hands up and tell me I was stubborn like my mother.
Maybe I am.
Just like Mama, I know how to stand my ground and fight for what matters most to me. He’s not taking away the life I’ve painstakingly built for myself.
“You’ll need security,” he says begrudgingly.
“I don’t want security,” I counter, internally railing at the idea of someone trailing after me and lurking outside my house at night. I cherish my independence and anonymity and wish I’d done a better job of being inconspicuous.
“I know you enjoy your freedom,” Papa cajoles, placing a hand over his heart. “But you have to understand where I’m coming from. There’s no way I can leave you to your own devices, left unprotected and vulnerable to the animals that have already come after you.” He opens his arms wide, hints of fear swirling in his dark eyes.
The urge to keep fighting fades as I realize my father is genuinely frightened for me. I don’t want him or my mother to worry needlessly, so I sigh and meet him in the middle. “Fine. One guard. That’s it.” My eyes narrow. “But I don’t want security while I’m at school. I can’t have one of your men shadowing me inside the building.” I shudder at the thought.
Every bit of Papa’s controlled anger breaks free. “But that’s where you were attacked!” he shouts.
“I know.” I learned my lesson the hard way. “I placed myself in a weak position by meeting with someone after most of the staff had left the building. I should have had one of the principals accompany us. And I should have insisted the tour take place during school hours. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
My father strokes his clean-shaven chin, seemingly pacified by my words. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, Sofia,” he says, his voice filled with uncharacteristic emotion.
“I know, Papa.” It tears me up inside that he blames himself for this. “I swear, I’ll be more careful from now on. I thought I’d taken enough precautions by using Mama’s name and a house alarm. I grew complacent in my own security, and I shouldn’t have.”
His shoulders slump. “We all have. And that needs to change.”
What happened is an ugly reminder of what my family is involved in and the reasons I chose to distance myself from it. It’s also a reminder that no matter how much I’ve tried to remove myself from it, I can be dragged back in on a whim. I now realize that the life I created for myself is nothing more than an illusion. I’ll never be free of the past or the choices my family has made.
Papa stabs a button on the intercom system and barks, “I want to see you in my office.”
Less than sixty seconds later, a discreet knock hits the door. Whoever has been summoned doesn’t wait for my father to give permission to enter.
Roman’s nearly black eyes lock on mine as he strides into the room. His gaze dips to my neck, and his jaw clenches. He turns to Papa and asks, “What happened?”
Most men would wait for Enzo Valentini to speak first.
But not Roman.
“Those Russian scumbags. They’ve assumed that we’re the ones responsible for their missing shipment of goods.” Fury once again fills Papa’s voice as he waves a hand in disgust. “As if I have any interest in the product they’re moving.”
Roman’s steely expression never falters. “You want me to set up a meeting? Have a conversation?”
A gurgle of laughter falls from my lips. Whatever happens with the Russians will have little to do with conversing. My father has tried to become more legitimate over the years regarding his endeavors, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone completely soft. Whoever’s involved in what happened today will pay dearly. No one messes with Enzo Valentini’s family and lives to tell the tale. The man who held that knife to my throat will die a painful death.
A knot forms in my gut. I don’t want blood on my hands. But I know better than to interfere. My father won’t listen to anything I say when it involves people who have actively targeted his family.
Papa shakes his head. “Let’s figure out what happened first. We’ll find who stole the shipment before we make any moves. We need to find out who Victor Dmitriyev works for.”
Roman frowns. “Dmitriyev?”
My father nods.
“Sounds familiar. Maybe he’s with the Vikashev crew?”
“Marco will run the name. For now, Sofia needs protection.” Papa jabs a finger in Roman’s direction. “And I want you to handle it.”
What? Oh, hell no!
I assumed Roman was called into the office to take care of—which is a nice way of saying eliminate—the problem, not be my babysitter. After what happened last weekend, I don’t want to be anywhere near him. I want to forget that he even exists, which I can’t do if he shadows me. “Papa,” I begin.
My father cuts me off by holding up a hand. He levels me with a glare and bellows, “There will be no more discussions! Roman will protect you until the threat has been eliminated. And that’s final!”
“But—”
Raising his brows, he bites out, “Or you move back home and quit your job.” He sits back in his chair to await an answer.
Well, hell. He’s not leaving me a choice.
I scowl at Roman, who hasn’t glanced at me once during this conversation.
Roman clears his throat. “May I speak with Sofia privately?”
My father would automatically refuse if anyone else asked, but he trusts Roman implicitly. That being said, Papa would probably strangle the younger man with his bare hands if he knew we’d had a one-night stand.
I’m tempted to tell him, but I won’t.
The only person I blame for sleeping with Roman is me. I knew it was a mistake, and I did it anyway.
My father stands. He’s tall and broad-shouldered and prides himself on wearing impeccably tailored suits. For a man over sixty, he’s aged well. When I look at old, dog-eared pictures of Papa, he looks a lot like my brother, Matteo. But then again, everyone in my family bears a striking resemblance to each other. We all have thick dark hair, wide espresso-colored eyes, and olive complexions.
“Good luck trying to talk sense into that one. She’s always been stubborn.” He sighs and heads for the door, pausing at the threshold to glance back at me. “Just like her mama.”
I roll my eyes.
He wouldn’t have my mother any other way, and we all know it. Papa loves and respects Mama with every fiber of his being.
The door closes with a soft click, leaving Roman and me alone in the office. I have no idea why he asked to speak privately with me. As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to discuss. Everything that needed to be said came out Sunday morning before I slapped him and screamed at him to get out of my house.
Refusing to look at him, I sit ramrod straight, facing forward with my hands folded neatly in my lap. He’s the one who asked to speak with me, so if he has something to say, he’d better get to it. It doesn’t take long for the silence to turn suffocating. I break down and reluctantly glance in his direction.
Our gazes collide, and my heart flutters. One look is all it takes to make my pulse kick.
I grit my teeth, loathing the attraction that continues to hum through my veins. It needs to go the hell away.
Roman crosses his arms over his chest. “Look, I know you don’t want me around.”
That’s an understatement. Pressing my lips together, I avert my eyes and ignore him.
“Your father has given me an order, and I’m going to fulfill it.” He doesn’t move from the wall he’s leaning against. “I’ll do my best to stay out of your way. I’ll give you as much distance a
s I can.” He pauses and then continues after a few beats of silence. “You won’t even know I’m there.”
Unable to hold my amusement in, I snort. Loudly.
I’m still hyperaware of him. The way I reacted when he walked through the door proves his cruel words didn’t kill my feelings for him.
I would dearly love to throw his offer of protection in his face, but I can’t. I’ve already pushed my father far enough. He wasn’t kidding about me moving home or quitting my job. If I request a different guard, he’ll get suspicious and question me, which I don’t want.
Rising from my chair, I take a fortifying breath and turn to face Roman. “I don’t have a choice in the matter, now do I?”
He doesn’t flinch at the sarcasm in my tone or shift his eyes from my glare.
It feels like we’re playing a silent game of chicken, and I refuse to be the loser. Not again.
Roman pushes off the wall and closes the distance between us. He stops close enough for the woodsy scent of his aftershave to fill my nose. His eyes focus on my throat. Rage flickers across his face, vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.
I blink, wondering if I imagined it.
He reaches out and gently grazes the shallow cut.
My breath catches in the back of my throat. Even after the ugly things he said Sunday morning, my body continues to long for his. I order myself to stay still as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Look at me, Sofia,” he demands roughly.
My eyes automatically open and meet his, taking in the steely resolve shining in them.
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again. For the time being, you’re stuck with me. Where you go, I go.”
I shake my head. No, no, no!
“Yes.”
“Tell him you won’t do it,” I whisper pleadingly.
His fingers settle under my chin. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because Enzo trusts me to keep you safe.”