There’s a brief moment of silence before he speaks up. “I wanted to check on you. We haven’t spoken since the last time we saw each other at the coffee shop.” He couldn’t possibly have been expecting a phone call from me, just after one fleeting moment of apology.
“Okay.” Another one-word response leaves my mouth without any hesitation. Everything in me wants to end this call, because I fear what else I may say.
Give me time to decide whether I forgive you. I’m happy that you finally came to your senses, even though it took Elena running away for that to happen.
The last thing I want is to indulge him. But at the same time, a small part of me wants to reel in this feeling for as long as it’ll stay. The feeling of finally being seen…for the right reasons?
I hear him inhale deeply. “Did you like the bracelet I gave you?” My eyes travel to my bare wrist and then to the table where I had left the bracelet. It’s a pretty piece of silver jewelry, and I like that it is in my favorite jewelry color .
A sigh escapes my lips as I wonder if he deliberately bought it in that shade, or it was just a mere coincidence.
“It’s…a nice piece,” I finally exhale.
“Yes, it is,” he quickly responds.” I had it specifically made for you.”
Tossing the pillow aside, I sit up and foolishly anticipate hearing that he remembered my favorite color and had it specifically made for me. But instead, my heart sinks when he clears his throat and changes the subject.
“…I know you have never had an eye for our family business, but now that you’ve married into such a powerful family, I hope you start taking an interest in it.” He even has a tinge of hope in his voice.
“It might be overwhelming at first,” he continues, causing me to arch a brow in confusion. “But with time, you’ll get the hang of it. You’re smart just like me. I trust you’ll do well. I have to go now. Take care of yourself, Bella.” The next second, the line disconnects.
And I’m left staring at my phone. Of course, he’s interested in the alliance. I can’t mess up his only chance at strengthening his mafia.
Choosing not to dwell on it, I reach for the book on the nightstand, flip to my desired page, and resume reading, only to be interrupted by a buzz from my phone.
I think it’s Father again, but when I see a text message with a video attached from an unknown number, my brows furrow.
Setting the book aside, I open the text, and horror fills me at what I see. My eyes widen as the camera settles on a man tied to a chair with blood trickling down his face. Dominic lights a cigar and presses it into an obvious wound on his skin. The man writhes, visibly in pain, but the video has no sound…
I hiss, my mouth hanging open as recognition hits me. That’s the man I encountered when I went to the library. Suddenly, Dominic grabs a lighter, lights it and steadies it against the man’s eye.
Instinctively, I toss the phone to the far corner of the room, a scream erupting from my lips. Nausea churns in my stomach, images of his skin melting, and his lips tearing open in an inaudible scream, filling my senses. No!
My body quakes, and I start to take deep breaths, but it does nothing to erase the trauma. Another wave of nausea hits me, and I jolt off the bed, rushing to the bathroom as the contents of my stomach come rushing up.
Tears blur my vision, and as I stand hunched against the sink, just one thing replays in my mind.If you ever try to give another man even a piece of you, I’ll destroy him in ways so deadly even the devil would flinch, and then I’ll make you watch until you understand that both your body and your mind...every fucking inch of you, is mine.
Fuck. Just how crazy is this psychopath?
Chapter eight
Dominic
“Wait till you see this one,Capo. Prime waterfront.”
The elevator groans as it ascends the building before it dings open. I walk out first, entering a large space that smells thick with cement and dust. Matteo follows, walking briskly to spread the blueprint on a wooden table.
“This beauty,” he announces with a boyish grin, straightening the edges of the paper. “Forty floors of glass and steel will be the Grimaldi tower. Each floor will be dedicated to a different land use. Hotels, condos, fashion houses...”
I watch him rant with the familiar glint in his eyes. No doubt, after mafia activities, he gains pleasure in construction.
I turn to the floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the expansive view of the water. Scaffolding and steel beams tower over my view, while the clang of hammers and hiss of welding fill my ears.
I can already see my name on it. Etched, untouchable, dominating.
“And the penthouse, all yours,Capo.” He finally meets my eyes. “When this is done, we have clean money, endless laundering potential.”
“Good.”
