My blood ran cold. “What are you talking about? How would you even know that?”
There was that fucking smug smile again. “I planted a listening device in his office. All I had to do was wait for a call to come in. Now his interfering hacker brother is away, and he has no one to try to track me down again.”
“Again?” I croaked. In a flash of insight, all the pieces fell together. “You were Jeremy’s stalker,” I whispered. “Tony’s company caught you, and you went to prison.”
“Yes,” he growled, his face an ugly mask of rage. “He took one man away from me. He won’t do it a second time.”
I let out a shuddering breath. Paul was doing this to get revenge on Tony. “What are you going to do to me?”
The insane light was back in his eyes. He tapped the tablet screen, bringing up a new piece of music. “You’re going to play this for me.” He gestured to the air mattress on the floor. “When I’m satisfied that you’ve done it justice, I will make you mine.” He caressed the blade of the knife. “And then I will take you away from Mr. Anthony D’Angelo, forever.”
My mouth went dry and my hands started shaking. He was planning to rape and murder me. And I was helpless to stop any of it. I had to stop that train of thought. I couldn’t lose hope. Tony had resources this piece of shit didn’t know about, and I knew he was looking for me. I just had to hold on to the hope that he’d find me in time.
Paul pointed at the keyboard. “You’ve rested long enough. Play for me.”
I looked at the music and wanted to vomit. He wanted me to play “All I Ask of You,” the main love song fromPhantom of the Opera.
I had to force my fingers to play the notes when what I wanted to do was pick up the keyboard and hurl it at Paul. I knew I made mistakes. I could tell by Paul’s expression. But the longer I played, the angrier I got. By the time I played the final notes of the song, I was seething and not exactly thinking straight.
“Not good enough. Play it again,” Paul demanded.
In my rage, I threw away all caution. “Fuck you! You don’t deserve my music!”
He shot up from his chair to loom over me. “I deserve it all!”
“You deserve nothing!” Then I picked up the tablet and threw it across the room. The screen cracked and the light went out. In the moment of Paul’s shocked silence, I thought I heard a noise outside the door. Conflicting emotions rose within me. Did he have an accomplice? Or had Tony finally found me?
Paul’s scream of fury and frustration echoed in the small room, shattering my hopeful longing. He picked up the knife, which had fallen when he jumped off the chair, and took hold of my right wrist in a crushing grip. “If you won’t play for me, you won’t play for anyone!”
He raised the knife high, intending to drive it into my hand. I tried to pull out of his hold, but he was too strong. “No! Please, no!”
There was a sharp crack, and a neat hole appeared in the center of Paul’s forehead. His head snapped back and his body jerked away from me, freeing my wrist. The knife slipped from his lax fingers and clattered to the floor.
A moment later, Tony was at my side. He put his arms around me and murmured, “I’ve got you.”
I stared at him in shock, unable to believe he was actually here. Then I turned my face into his neck and wept.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
TONY
Thirty Minutes Earlier
Paolo was waiting at the curb in a black SUV with dark-tinted windows. Alessandro took the front passenger seat while Hunter took the very back row. Dante and I took the middle seat. We rode in tense silence. I was chafing at every second spent in rush hour traffic. Finally, to distract myself, I turned to Dante and asked, “How’s your arm?”
“Better,” he replied with a slight grimace. “But not great. My physical therapist says it’ll be a month and a half to two months before I’m back to where I was before.”
“That’s rough,” I said.
“It sucks. And I’m bored. Thanks for calling me into this, by the way. I get to feel useful again.”
I was about to spout a useless platitude, but I kept my mouth shut. I understood where he was coming from. Marco had explained it to me often enough. Men who had what it took to become Navy SEALs had a drive that most people couldn’t match. Instead, I said, “I’ll do what I can to get you more interesting jobs.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Silence once again descended on our group. As we got closer to our destination, Dante leaned over and said quietly, “Use the time to get focused. Think about the mission, not about how angry or scared you are.”
I nodded. He was right. Greg needed me to have my head on straight. I couldn’t rush in there half-cocked just because I wanted to tear Paul Langer’s head off.
