Beautiful Deception

by Morgan James

  His hot breath washed over my cheek as he pinned me in place. “I warned you not to fuck with me. I told you you’d regret it.”

  A sharp cry tore from my mouth as he fisted one hand in my hair. Tear spring to my eyes, but I refused to give in that easily. I threw an elbow into Matteo’s midsection with as much force as possible considering my hands were still found in front of me. A tiny kernel of satisfaction bloomed as he let out a harsh grunt, but it was overshadowed seconds later as he grasped the long strands of my hair and yanked hard. My back arched under the strain, and pain exploded across my scalp as he dragged me backward. The agony was almost paralyzing, and Matteo had me strung up before I could fight back.

  Arms suspended high above me, Matteo tugged on the rope until I was standing fully upright, my heels barely able to touch the floor. He secured the rope in place, then took three steps to stand directly in front of me. He glared down at me, and I notched my chin up in challenge. With a quick jerk, he lifted a corner of the tape over my mouth and ripped it off.

  Damn, that hurt! Tears clouded my eyes and I let out a sharp cry as pain burned across my skin. I rolled my lips together to try to ease the fire there, but it didn’t diminish. Infuriated, I glared at my cousin.

  “If you think this will get me to change my mind, you’re wrong.” Though my words were full of false bravado, I couldn’t quite keep my voice from shaking. Fear vibrated through me, and I swallowed hard, forcing it down.

  A confident smirk lifted one corner of his mouth. “We both know that’s not true.”

  I mimicked his smirk. “Really? I escaped once. What makes you think I won’t do it again?”

  He dropped back a step, hands propped on his hips, and the smile slipped from his lips. Then he did the last thing I expected. He laughed. Cold and completely devoid of mirth, the sound sent a chill down my spine. My heart raced, and my stomach clenched as his deep chuckle bounced off the stone walls, filling my ears and sending goosebumps over my flesh. I pressed my lips into a firm line and stared at him until, finally, the laughter trailed off.

  Dark eyes met mine, cutting through me like a knife. “Oh, Giuliana. Still so naïve.”

  I recoiled as he closed the distance once more and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You think you will escape me?” I didn’t deign to answer, and he gave his head a little shake. “Do you have any idea where you are?” His voice was deceptively soft, smooth as silk, and I recognized the calm before the storm.

  In hell. I wisely kept the retort to myself and stared at him like it didn’t matter in the least. I tried like hell to keep my expression neutral and not show my curiosity—because I did want to know where we were. How far were we from people, from any place I could seek help?

  Matteo tipped his head slightly to one side as he studied me, seeming to anticipate my reaction to whatever he was about to impart. “Did you know if there are hundreds of tunnels beneath the city?”

  Oh, God. My shoulders tightened. I’d lived in Chicago my whole life; of course I’d heard of them. Had I ever been down there? Hell no. It was too creepy to contemplate.

  “Is that where we are? In one of the tunnels?” The thought of being locked away underground, where no one could hear me, sent chills down my spine.

  “You, principessa, should be more well-versed in our family’s history.”

  Anger curled through me. “Maybe I would be if anyone ever thought to share anything with me.”

  It was the same with all the women in la famiglia. We were involved on a strictly need-to-know basis—and more often than not, we didn’t need to know. I knew a lot of the other women preferred it that way; they didn’t want to know what kind of monster their husband or father or brother was.

  Matteo turned finally and smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I shall enlighten you. This”—he spread his arms upward in a Y shape—“is Saint Paul’s Church.”

  My mouth opened, then snapped closed again. I’d been to Saint Paul’s hundreds of times over the course of my life. I’d been baptized here, attended mass, dozens of weddings, and more funerals than I cared to admit. Never in all those years had I ever seen anything like this. “How did you know about this place?”

  A condescending smile curled his lips. “Oh, I’ve used this room several times over the years.”

  I looked around the room again, and suddenly... I knew exactly what this room had been used for. I swallowed hard. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “Privacy,” he said simply. “Can’t have anyone interrupting.”

  “Matteo...” I recoiled as he pushed off the table and strode toward me.

  “You hated that closet, didn’t you?”

  I glared up at him. What the hell kind of question was that? He knew I did. I didn’t bother to respond, and his head tipped slightly to one side after several tense seconds of silence. “Is it the dark?”

  He waited a bit, then shook his head. “No, not the dark. Is it the confined space?”

  Again, I refused to answer. I wouldn’t give him any more ammunition to use against me. I watched as Matteo moved in a wide arc around me, and I turned my head, eyes fixed on him until he moved out of my peripheral vision. Hands bound above me, I was helpless as Matteo stepped up behind me, pressing himself against my back. I arched, trying to hold myself away from him, but the limited range of motion in the restraints made it difficult. Or was it the stale air? I tried to focus beyond the dull pain radiating through my shoulders. What was he asking about?

  One large hand slid over my shoulder, brushing my collarbone, then wrapped around my throat. “Must be difficult to breathe in such a small space,” he observed, tightening his hold.

  My breathing turned shallow and rapid, and Matteo let out a soft chuckle. “That’s it, isn’t it? What do you think it would be like to be left for dead, buried alive? Wondering when your oxygen would run out. If anyone would ever find you, or if you would die all alone in the dark, trapped in that tiny space.”

  My lungs hitched, and my heart thundered in my chest. Blood thrummed through my veins, and I could hear the rushing of it in my ears as black dots danced in front of my eyes. I tried to jerk away, my instinct for survival overriding my fear.

  Matteo moved in front of me again and cocked one eyebrow as he studied me. “Massimo was much too lenient with you. You see,” he continued, “he didn’t take the opportunity to get to know you. Not like I know you.”

  A shiver of foreboding slid down my spine as his eyes darkened.

  “He put you in the closet because you hated it, but he didn’t really understand why you hated it so much.”

  I hated that he could read me so easily. I glared up at him. “What if you’re wrong?” I challenged.

  Matteo laughed. “I’m not wrong. You hate the idea of being completely helpless, being at someone else’s mercy.”

  I swallowed hard, but refused to answer him. He was right; we both knew it.

  “How do you feel now?” He lifted his hand, trailing his fingers lightly down my right arm as he circled me again. “Strung up like a marionette, dancing only when I pull the strings?”

  As if to prove his point, he tugged lightly on the rope where it wrapped around the cleat mounted on the wall. The quick jerk tugged on my wrists, lifting me to the balls of my feet. I cried out as pain shot through the joints of my shoulders. He released me, and I fell back to my heels with a panting breath.

  “Fear is the greatest motivator,” he remarked as he moved toward one flickering lantern. The golden glow danced over his face as he lifted the glass globe and leaned close, then blew out the flame. The room immediately dimmed, and my heart lurched in my chest.

  Oh, God. “Please don’t!” I begged. I could deal with a lot of things, but the stark darkness of a torture chamber buried deep beneath the earth had the power to break me.

  Matteo met my gaze as he crossed to the second lamp, the leaping flames reflected in the dark depths, making him look like the epitome of the
devil. “Will you obey me if I let you go?”

  I could have told him yes, but we both knew it would be a lie.

  “That’s what I thought.” He took a deep breath then exhaled, and the smell of smoke lingered on the air as the light was extinguished.

  “Matteo!” Desperation laced my voice as he swung the door open. I couldn’t see a damn thing, and my heart raced as I began to hyperventilate. “Oh, God... Please don’t! Don’t leave me!”

  “Sorry, principessa.” A slight hesitation. “This is for your own good.”

  The door slammed behind him, and the key in the lock sounded deafening in the small room. I tugged on my bonds, my breath coming in rapid pants in the dark. “Matteo!”

  A soft scraping noise met my ears, making me jump. Unable to see, I envisioned spiders crawling along the walls, rats scurrying along the stone floor. “Matteo! Don’t leave me here! Don’t do this!”

  I screamed until my throat was raw, but no one came. I was all alone in the dark, left here to die alone.

  Twenty-Two

  Eric

  “Sheriff?” Hawkins called from the front office.

  I moved to my doorway. “Yeah?” He hitched one thumb over his shoulder. “Got a guy on the phone who wants to talk to you.”

  I waved my hand in the air dismissively. “Get a call-back and I’ll touch base with him later.”

  I was too busy to deal with any bullshit right now. I had just entered my request for vacation, effective immediately, and I had a ton of loose ends to tie up before then. I planned to head to Chicago tomorrow and meet up with some of my old teammates, do some digging of my own. I’d put in a call to Doyle to pull everything he could on Massimo Capaldi and his family in the meantime. He’d put me in touch with a contact from the Chicago field office, and we had a meeting arranged for the following day.

  I was going to find whoever was responsible for taking Jules away. Then I was going to make damn sure justice was served, one way or another.

  “I tried,” Hawkins apologized with a grimace. “But he says he has something you might want to hear.”

  My heart leapt in my chest, but my mind told me to proceed with caution. Any time there was a case like this, false tips poured in like rain. We had to investigate every single one, and more often than not, it was a waste of time and resources. Still, I would at least hear the guy out before I left.

  “Send him over,” I snapped. The transfer rolled through just as I reached my desk, and I swiped up the phone. “Donahue.”

  My response was gruff and curt, and the chuckle that came from the other end sent prickles of ice down my spine. “You sound frustrated, Sheriff.”

  Immediately on guard, I tamped down my anger. “Who is this?”

  The man made a little sound in the back of his throat. “I believe we have a mutual... acquaintance,” he responded.

  I ground my molars together. “Is that so?”

  “You must’ve made quite an impression on her, Sheriff,” the man taunted. “She’s awfully distraught.”

  I balled my hand into a fist and placed it on the desk. I wanted to reach through the phone and wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him. Somehow, I managed to form words through the anger choking my throat. “Then maybe you should let her go.”

  Another chuckle came from his end. “I don’t think so,” that smooth cultured voice spoke again. “If you want her, you’ll have to come take her.”

  “Tell me where.” There was no hesitation this time, only my resolve to find Jules and bring her home to me.

  “There’s an old warehouse down by the river,” he said. “I’m sure you remember it.”

  Fear stole up my spine as I remembered the last time I was inside that Godforsaken abandoned building situated next to the Calumet River. Motherfucker. He was leading me right back to the spot where I’d almost lost my life three years ago. If that wasn’t a fucking omen, I didn’t know what was. But there wasn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do for Jules, and if facing my demons meant bringing her back, I would do it if it killed me. Maybe literally.

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow evening, eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  With that, the man hung up, and I stared at the phone for a long moment. “Goddamn it!”

  I banged my fist against the wood of the desk as I slammed the receiver down. I was going to murder the bastard. I’d been chasing the wrong lead all along. Though he hadn’t identified himself, it had to be none other than Massimo Capaldi himself. By ordering me to meet at the warehouse, he’d practically handed me his identity.

  Hawkins hovered in the doorway. “Sheriff?”

  “She’s in Chicago,” I ground out. “I’ve gotta go.”

  I was already halfway out of the station when I spun on my heel. Fuck. What the hell was I thinking? I met Hawkins’s gaze, and he gave his head a little shake. “Go. I’ll take care of everything.”

  I tipped my chin and was out the door seconds later, already climbing into the cruiser. The cold air battered at me, but I didn’t notice as I shoved the key into the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot. I dug my phone with my back pocket as I drove and hit a number on speed dial. Jack picked up on the second ring.

  “Donahue. What’s up?”

  “Need a favor,” I said without preamble. “Can you find me the first flight to Chicago?”

  There was a moment’s pause, then— “Did you find her?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed. “Fucker called me out, told me to meet him at a warehouse on the outskirts of town tomorrow night.”

  “Good. Let’s go,” Jack responded.

  “No fucking way,” I cut in. “You’re not going.”

  “Fuck you,” Jack said blithely. “Are you going to stop me?”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I growled. “You’ve got a kid on the way, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Yeah, well, around here, we take care of our own.” Keys tapped in the background, and Jack’s voice came back over the line. “First flight out is in about five hours. Should give us time to get to the airport and get through security.”

  “Book it,” I groused. “But you’re still not coming with me.”

  Jack entered my information into the airline system as I drove toward home, my heart pounding in my throat.

  “All right,” Jack said finally. “You’re on American 1273 into O’Hare. Flight leaves at 8:05.”

  “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”

  “Thank me later,” Jack said. “I’ll be at your place in 30.”

  The line went dead, and I growled my frustration as I tossed my phone onto the dash. Fucker couldn’t listen to save his life. Still, I couldn’t help the gratitude that welled up inside me. I slid to a stop in front of the cabin, then practically ran inside. Hastily, I grabbed clothes and shoved them into a duffel bag. I didn’t bother with toiletries. I wasn’t going to dick around with trying to get through them through security, and I could buy everything I needed once I got there, if the hotel didn’t provide it. Right now, I felt the overwhelming need to get on the road and get going.

  I waited impatiently, hovering by the front door, and my ears perked up as I heard a car turn into the gravel drive. Duffel in hand, I locked the door and slammed it behind me, and was already waiting in the driveway by the time the Suburban came to a stop. Surprise rendered me speechless when I saw Mia behind the wheel of the giant SUV.

  Yanking open the door, I tossed my duffel in and climbed into the backseat and shot a look at Jack. “No fucking way. She’s not coming with us.”

  “I’m just driving,” Mia said helpfully as she turned around and headed back down the main road. “Not that it would stop me from going if I really wanted to.”

  I rolled my eyes. It was probably true, but I refused to let a pregnant woman walk into danger. I had no idea what had transpired over the past several years with the Capaldi family, and I wasn’t sure how strong they were, or what kind of resources they had. Showing up in
Chicago was a gamble in itself. Jack and I could be taken out the second we stepped off the plane.

  I rubbed my forehead. “You guys really shouldn’t be involved in this.”

  “And you should really learn to stop arguing and just say thank you when someone wants to help,” Jack commented from the front seat.

  I couldn’t help the worry that spread through me. “Listen. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”

  “You’re not walking in there alone.” Jack’s voice was flat and implacable.

  “He’s right,” Mia piped up. “You walk in there alone, and he’ll kill you. We’ll lose both of you forever. That’s not something either of us wants to live with.”

  I met her gaze in the rearview mirror and swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  “Look at that,” Jack drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm. “He does have manners.”

  A tiny smile cracked my mouth. “Only when it comes to Jules.”

  Because she was my whole world, and I’d burn it down to save her.

  I’m coming for you, baby.

  Twenty-Three

  Giuliana

  Everything hurt. My shoulders ached from the weight of my body pulling downward, and the leather cuffs cut into my wrists, grinding against the delicate bones. I hung there limply, completely helpless, nearly frozen with cold. Fear had been my constant companion, as was the darkness. I had no idea how long I’d been down here. Hours, at least. Maybe even a full day. Every cell of my body radiated with pain, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. The blood had drained from my arms, leaving them with a prickly sensation as if they’d fallen asleep long ago.

  My stomach growled, hunger having finally caught up to me. I didn’t remember the last time I ate anything of substance. I’d barely managed to force down a couple pieces of dry toast after the doctor had examined me when I arrived at my uncle’s house, but I hadn’t had anything after that. After Uncle told me Eric was dead, I hadn’t been able to drum up any appetite at all.