Page 3

It went to voicemail. He wasn’t fazed. “Hey, Elio,” he said in his most amiable voice. “It’s Mattia. Just thought you’d like to know I’ve got your sister.” He looked at his watch. “It’s one in the morning. You’ve got until exactly seven o’clock this evening to release my mother, and eleven o'clock Thursday morning to sign the Esposito Group back to me, or the beautiful Elvira will suffer the same fate she’d planned for my mother. That’s eighteen hours for my mother and thirty-four hours for the Esposito Group, my friend. I’m sure the talented Vincent will be able to get all the paperwork completed in that time frame. As a gesture of good will, you can keep the shadowed world. Call me, and we can go through the details and my other demands.”

Ending the call, he looked again at his hostage. She really was most striking to look at.

The silver eyes that were disarming at first glance fired loathing at him even as her wide, pretty lips pulled into a smile. “You are mad.”

He shrugged. “We shall see.”

“I already see. You’re like one of those Japanese soldiers of the Second World War who continued to fight long after their country had surrendered.”

“You know your history.”

She pulled an unimpressed face.

“If we are making historical analogies, then I like to think of this as when Augustus lost the Battle of Teutoburg Forest. He was betrayed and ambushed, just as I was ten days ago, and three of his legions were wiped out, yet he still rose to power and became the first emperor of the Roman Empire. He reigned for over forty years.”

The face she pulled this time was almost sympathetic, her nod of agreement placating. “Sure, but he had his friend Agrippa running his campaigns for him. Everyone knows Agrippa was the brains behind the power. Where are your brains?”

Surprised, he gave a grunt of laughter. “You do know your history. And there was me thinking your only interests were clothes and makeup.” He knew there was a hell of a lot more to her than that of course, but he would take any opportunity to needle the bitch who’d wanted to kill his mother.

“That’s because you’re a sexist pig.”

He shrugged. “My sister likes to accuse me of being one.”

“The sister you’re going to have killed.” She shook her head, her expression now regretful. “That was the deal. We spared your mother’s life on the condition that any attempt to rescue her would result in Siena’s death.”

“I didn’t make that deal.”

“Sure you did. Silence is compliance, and you, my friend, were silent, and now your sister is going to die.” Her silver eyes suddenly sparkled. “I do hope Elio lets me pull the trigger.”

“That all depends on whether he wants you to live.” He widened his smile. “Maybe your brother will see this as a good opportunity to get rid of you.”

She laughed. “My brother would burn the city to keep me alive.”

“And I would burn it to save my mother and get my father’s empire returned to me.”

“The empire built on my family’s blood.”

“That old story?” he mocked. “It’s become a little boring, so why not try another tune to mix things up?” He had the fleeting satisfaction of seeing the amusement on her face evaporate before his phone rang. “Speak of the devil, and he shall call.”

“The only devil here is you and the rest of the spawn who call themselves Espositos,” she spat.

“Says the woman who was disappointed at not being able to shower me in my mother’s brains.” He put the phone to his ear. “Elio! Great to hear from you!”

Elvira’s head was filled with too much red rage mist at the bastard’s slight of her family’s suffering to hear much of the conversation that followed. She heard nothing of what her brother said. Instead, she fixed her stare on the bastard slowly pacing the small living room she was handcuffed in, trying to discern what she could from his body language.

One of the many things she’d noticed about Mattia Esposito since her brother had married Siena was that he was much more contained and aloof than his volatile siblings. Much colder than even his reputation suggested. Because of that, the animation on his face since he’d pulled her hood off was more frightening than the situation she found herself in, a little like being kidnapped by who you thought was Ice Man and finding yourself face to face with Caligula.

Even as she thought this, she couldn’t help the added thought that physically, he was more Commodus than Caligula. Historians recorded Commodus as being the most handsome man of the Roman Empire, and then she cheered herself up by remembering that Commodus had been a brute like Caligula (although nowhere near as ingenious in his cruelty), and rumoured to have had sex with a number of his sisters.

Elvira couldn’t imagine Mattia having sex with anyone. Wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans, he was tall and well built, and though his strong nose reminded her of a haughty bird-of-prey’s, incredibly good-looking. His dark, almost black hair was the same shade as his brothers’, his eyes a shade of green shared by none of his family, and he had a deep scar above his top lip that added to his dangerously sexy air.

Yet for all his sexiness, she still couldn’t envisage him getting down and dirty for sex. He looked like a man who should enjoy plenty of sex, but he was too solitary and contained to let himself get close enough to a woman for it. Sex involved feelings, and he definitely didn’t have those. No emotions at all. Like Commodus, he was willing for his sister to die. By kidnapping Elvira, he was effectively ordering Siena’s assassination, just as Commodus had ordered Lucilla’s.

Mattia had watched Siena marry their enemy Elio without a hint of emotion. Elvira should know. She’d watched him throughout the service. Siena had bound herself to a man she despised for the sake of their family, and Mattia’s face had betrayed nothing.

His deep rumble of laughter suddenly echoed through the room. It was such a mocking laugh it made her wince. It was her brother he was mocking. If her hands weren’t cuffed, she’d launch herself at him and to hell with the consequences. If she was going to die at Mattia Esposito’s hands, it would be on her own damned terms.

His green eyes fixed on her. A smirk playing on his lips, he said into the phone, “I wouldn’t worry about that. Gino knows all about ticking clocks – he played such a good hand when he kidnapped my cousin that I thought I would play the same hand. The only difference is the time frame. Mine is much shorter than his, and it’s non-negotiable. None of it is. Meet my demands in the time frames given, or I’ll be sending you a photo of me showered in your sister’s brains.”