For Adriano (16 page)

“I want to hear it from you,” I say.

Luca removes his phone from his pocket and slides a finger across the screen.

“She was held there by Sal.”

“And?” I aim the semi-automatic weapon at him again, covering the slide on top with my hand and showing my teeth.

“She was used. She was a slave, and then she escaped.” The words tumble out.

“How did she escape?”

“With...the help of a bodyguard.”

“His name?”

“Santino.”

“How exactly did Santino help her? I want the details.” I take one step closer.

“She seduced him,” he answers.

Luca and I can’t help but glance at one another, and stashing his phone, he’s instantly focused back to the matter at hand. It was probably Fallon.

“How?” Luca asks, moving next to me.

“They were lovers. Santino betrayed Sal. She turned Sal’s best guard against him.” He’s struggling to keep a steady voice but manages well.

The tempest brewing violently in my stomach since yesterday’s revelation about Cam and Damian erupts. My body stiffens, barely under control. Is she in love with Santino? Is he telling the truth? This is not good for my sanity.

Luca takes over the interrogation when he observes my severe reaction.

“Is Santino alive?” Luca speaks.

I’m drowning in questions, realizing how little Cam and I actually knew one another. Within one day, she went from a person who, at one point, was a close friend to a complete stranger. A wave of jealousy pierces me, and my complete astonishment even manages to dampen my fury.

“He’s alive,” Christopher answers.

“Adriano.”

Who is Camilla Guillermo?
She’s a mystery. She’s up to something, and this entire past of hers is not sitting well with me.

“Adriano... Adriano!” Luca shouts.

I stash my gun that’s still directed at Christopher’s dick in the back of my pants and charge out of the cell, out of the warehouse to try to regain some composure because this is unbearable.

I grab my Marlboros from the glove compartment. Leaning back against the car, I flick open my lighter with one hand and ignite my cig and pull in a heavy breath.

Who the hell is she? Why is she obsessing me? All reason has left my body since yesterday, and everything from the last two years flies through my mind.

Luca, looking apprehensive, joins me.

“I’m going to talk to her,” I say calmly, with much effort, while taking another draw.

“Is that such a good idea? You’re awfully wound up.” He pauses and rubs his jaw. “We don’t know if what he says is true. However, it would explain why she’s concerned for Santino.”

Smoke drifts up between us, and I cock my head. “You think she’s in love with him?”

Luca throws up his hands in exasperation. “That’s what you’re worried about? What about the fact that she might be lying to us? That if she
is
lying, she’s a damn good actress. Then there’s the fact that she’s James’s daughter, so he’s not being objective. Then I have you, who’s also clearly being led by his balls. You two do need to talk, but you need to reel it in first or else it’ll become a mess.”

“I’ll try.” I point my cig toward the warehouse. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. I just left him hanging from the bar in the same position. We’ll discuss with James how to handle him. You get every piece of information you can from Camilla.”

Taking the last drag, I flick the butt away with my thumb. “I can’t guarantee you that I’ll get everything out of her.” Let’s just hope that it at least happens without any casualties.

Luca comments, “Let’s go to Lincoln Park. We’re already late, and it’ll take us at least twenty minutes to get there. Maybe it’s best that you keep your distance from Cam during dinner because James already senses the strain between you two. And I’m afraid you might explode at an ill-timed moment.”

CHAPTER 17

Camilla

James’s house is a huge mansion. David drives us straight past perfectly trimmed hedges toward the entrance. The place resembles a palace with an entire flight of stairs that lead to massive wooden doors.

“How well do you know Alessa and James?” I ask Fallon, who’s nudging her e-reader into her purse.

“Not well. I rarely see them. I saw Alessa for the second time at my wedding last week. She’s nice though, very sweet. And you’ll fit right in.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” she says, favorably pleased, and rights her emerald dress that hangs off one shoulder as the car pulls to a stop.

“Ready to meet your family?”

I start to play with my earring. “I’m slightly nervous, but the good kind of nervous. Before we go in, thank you for today. I feel much better wearing new, clean clothes and being able to buy and use all my own lotions.”

“It was my pleasure. Always know that you can count on me. Now we need to get you and Adriano alone somehow.” Her eyes gleam with mischief.

“I’m not so sure I’ll ever be ready to talk to him, so I guess I’ll just have to do it and get it over with,” I admit honestly. “Let’s just wait to see what frame of mind he’s in because so far, he hasn’t been in the nicest mood toward me. He’s conflicted in his actions and words, saying one thing and then doing another.”

“And that’s why you two need to discuss Damian. Tell him what you told me,” she urges and looks through the window. “We have to go inside.”

I get out of the car feeling much cleaner and better than in months. We went to the hairdresser, and I’ve cut my hair into a curved bob that ends just below my earlobes. The long strands were annoying me, and I’m glad to have my old, stylish haircut back. My wide-flowing, purple ankle-length skirt rustles in the wind as we climb the stairs, but it’s not cold at all. Summer is just around the corner, so I’ve topped my skirt with a skintight, white long-sleeve shirt.

We’re welcomed into a large foyer with twin curving marble stairs and a crystal chandelier illuminating the home.

A tall, slender woman hurries down the hall from a sunken living room.

And James comes up to us from the right. He’s not wearing his customary suit jacket but still radiates authority. “Camilla, this is Alessa.”

“Camilla, I’m so happy to meet you.” She’s stunning with sleek, black hair, wearing an elegant long dress.

She embraces me, making me feel a bit cramped, but I ignore it and return her hug. “Nice to meet you too.”

Meanwhile, more people have arrived, and Fallon stays right next to me for support.

“They’re all tall and beautiful. Just like you. Told you you’d fit in,” she utters.

“This is Rosalia.” Alessa moves away and an almost exact copy of her, only younger, appears.

“Hey.” Rosalia smiles sincerely and wraps her arms around me too.

Then I’m introduced to Alessa’s sister, two male cousins, and two other women whom I don’t remember how I’m related to, and I’m informed this is just a small part of the family.

Completely overawed, I move to the dining room and see a beautifully set table, which is filled with steaming dishes of food and dinnerware, glassware, napkins, and floral arrangements that are all color coordinated.

As I sit down next to Fallon, I ask, “Where are Luca and—”

But right then, Luca and Adriano come walking in, and Alessa says cheerily, “My boys. These two were my best boys in the bakery when they were seventeen.” She hugs them both.

Without a glance in my direction, Adriano starts to make his greetings around the table.

Luca first comes over to Fallon. She looks up as he cradles the back of her head and kisses her full on the lips. Then he greets the rest.

As Adriano shifts to me, I rise and clasp his waist. He takes a deep breath and barely winds one arm across my middle.

“Hey,” I whisper into his ear, and he pulls away with a formal nod to sit straight across from me.

Lastly, Salvatore and his wife, Julia, join us.

From the head of the table to my left, James proposes a toast with a glass of red. “Welcome, Camilla, to our – your – home. I hope you’ll feel at home here and that we can all get a chance to get to know you better.”

“Thank you.” I hold up my wine glass.

“Salute,”
they all cheer, and James adds,
“Ora andiamo a mangiare.”
Now let’s eat.

Dinner is a typical, loud Italian affair. I’m bombarded with questions from Alessa and Rosalia. And Fallon intervenes once in a while, noticing how frazzled I am.

As the night wears on, my mood hardly improves. Adriano, who’s avoiding my gaze while I’m, again, aware of his every move, is starting to unbalance me.

And one of the women, whose name I’ve forgotten, evidently has a crush on Adriano, talking a little too closely to his face, and he’s laughing at her jokes.

Fallon leans toward me and takes a huge sip from her water. “She’s always after him.”

“Does he like her?”

“I don’t think so. This is the most he’s ever said to her.” The corner of her lip curls up.

She knows exactly what I wanted to know.

Adriano meets my eyes as the woman murmurs something to him.

I hold his gaze now that I’ve finally captured it and faintly tilt my head.

A smirk flashes across his face; is he challenging me? I’m unsure what that smirk stands for. There’s an underlying message, probably fueled by his warranted anger over Damian. A part of me doesn’t want to let him drag me into his game; he’s too untamed and wild. Yet that single thought is always overridden the moment we lay eyes on each other.

The woman pulls on his arm, making him turn his head to her, and they continue their conversation.

Alessa announces, “Who’s up for dessert?”

A loud cheer explodes. I guess this family loves their dessert.

“We have the most delicious Italian ice cream, Camilla.”

I’ve eaten so much pasta and meat already. “No, thank you. I’m stuffed.”

“Just a tiny scoop. It’s homemade ice cream,” she repeats as if that would convince me.

Not wanting to be rude, I relent.

She ticks off fingers when listing the flavors. “What flavor? Vanilla, dark chocolate, melon, passion fruit?”

“Melon,” I choose.

“Adriano, flavor?” Alessa asks him.

His glance skits by me as he answers, “Vanilla.” And he leans back, draping his arm on the woman’s chair, locking eyes with me. “It used to be my favorite,” he states in a low voice for me to hear while Alessa’s already taking orders from the rest.

Used to be? He’s still really upset.

I don’t let him goad me and don’t shy away from his scorching glare, but Fallon pinches my thigh.

“Stop it. Don’t let him taunt you.” She scowls at Adriano, who grins back wickedly, seemingly amused, but I can see through that first layer. His aura is absolutely red with hostility.

In spite of Adriano’s mood, I attempt to act friendly during the rest of the dinner since everyone’s going above and beyond to make me feel at ease.

James’s tone is always indulgent yet controlled, but less formal when he’s around Alessa, and I can tell by the way he looks at her that he adores her.

Then I observe that similar look on Luca’s face. And that feeling of loneliness still lingers, even while I’m surrounded by countless people. I think the past day is just catching up with me, and emotions overcome me. I swallow back building tears.

When I peek around uncertainly to make sure no one sees my nervousness, Adriano’s scrutinizing me with a wrinkle between his brows.

Putting her hand on my arm, Fallon comments, “Are you okay?”

“I’m just tired. I want to go but don’t want to be rude,” I confess, swallowing.

“It’s not rude. Are you going to stay with Luca and me then?”

I nod.

“Do you want me to talk to Alessa and explain we’re going?” she offers.

“No, I’ll do it. Thanks.” My chair scrapes on the tiles when I stand, and Adriano watches me closely, but now I ignore him. I’m done with this day.

I haunch down beside Alessa. “Dinner was great, but I’m pretty tired and, honestly, a little overwhelmed, so we’re heading home.”

Apprehension flickers over her features, and she slides her stool back. “Of course; I understand, sweetheart. I hope it wasn’t too much with all these people?”

“No, not at all,” I lie just to be nice.

James mentions, “I have your phone, Camilla. Let me get it for you.”

I wave goodbye and flee the dining room right after James. Footsteps sound behind me, and I spin around to be met with Adriano’s commanding persona.

“Are you staying with Luca?”

Why is he asking? He must know.

When he’s ready to talk, we’ll talk, so I stay quiet.

James returns with a smartphone for me. “Our numbers are in there, and we have yours.”

“Thank you.” I stash it in my purse and hesitate to voice my question. “Have you given any thought to helping Santino?”

“Yes. We’ll talk it over tomorrow. No business in this house,” he utters as Alessa comes to me with a plastic bag hanging in her grasp.

“Here.” She places the bag into my hand. “Some snacks to go.”

“Uhm thanks.”

“Let’s go,” Fallon says, and we get into the car with David while Luca follows us in his Maserati.

***

I lie by the window overlooking the city lights in Fallon’s immaculate white library, the bookshelves full and climbing the walls.

After we arrived, Fallon picked up on the fact that I needed some time, so they’re in the living room, and this is my room for the time being. The bench also doubles as a guest bed, and the mattress is ideally soft.

The door handle is pushed down, and of course, he’s here. I felt he’d come. I knew he’d come. The man that has a hold on my heart and will never let go. His dark strands of hair are even more disheveled than usual, a sure sign that he’s been running his hands through it in his troubled state. He looks like he needs to talk more than I do.

I sit up as he shuts the door behind him.

When he advances closer with an unreadable expression, I stand up to prevent him from towering over me. Adriano’s presence engulfs the library.

He touches my short hair. “You cut it.”

“What do you want?” I’m struggling not to reach out, holding my arms neatly tucked beside me.

His finger strokes over my cheek, and the will to fight deserts me. But then he folds his fingers around my throat – something I’ve seen him do to others in anger. My eyes battle with his as we stand an inch apart, him just a tad taller than I am.

I gasp when he tightens his hold and tilts his head, his dilated pupils huge and alarming. “Why are you such a tease? Are you a slut? While
you
always called
me
a man-whore.” A disdainful smile plays on his lips.

I shove him away. “If you want to talk like adults, then talk, but don’t do this.”

“Did you seduce Santino?” he spits with venom.

“Yes.”

“Were you lovers?”

“No.”

“Did you sleep with Damian?”

I let out a sigh. “Adriano—”

“Did. You. Sleep. With. Damian?” he repeats in a gravelly low tone and crowds me again.

Keeping my shoulders straight, I answer truthfully, “Yes.”

“When?”

“Days before I helped Fallon escape the headquarters, when you were pulling away.”

“Don’t you dare blame me,” he warns, his breath blowing across my cheek.

“I’m not. I was hurt and drunk and stupid. But
we
weren’t anything. You told me that you wouldn’t bring me into your world. And as if you didn’t sleep around,” I fire back, baited by him.

“And why weren’t we anything? That wasn’t only my doing. We both never defined it, but you betrayed me,” he says in an agonized tone that shatters my soul into tiny splinters. “And I never fucked anyone else when I was intimate with you! You assumed I did.”

“What is ‘this’? I’m so confused and stunned... I’m sorry. It meant nothing. Damian means nothing to me. You and I haven’t seen each other in nine months, and this is what you want to argue about?”

The muscles in his dress shirt ripple from his confined anger. “Yes! Because I just found out about Damian yesterday. About Santino and you today. You’re not at all the woman I thought you were. Months of distress and searching. How do you think it was for me to find that out? To know that you were out there.” He waves to the window irately. “Alone!”

Adriano grips my shoulders, lifting me onto my toes. “I’ve been going crazy with worry about you, and now that you’re here, I want to throttle you.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeat and add, whisper soft, “I missed you.”