Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Taking out my cell, I call Mother. “Where are you?”
“Sienna wasn’t feeling well. She wanted to go home and get some sleep.”
“I’ll come by soon,” I reply. “In fact, I think I may stay at your place this evening.”
“That’s a good idea, dear. Sienna seems very shaken up. I can’t help but wonder if it had something to do with seeing you and Anya together.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. If I saw her with another man, I’d be pissed too. I don’t care if it’s only been a little while.”
“Love doesn’t work on a timeline, dear,” Mom says.
“Love,” I repeat. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Perhaps you’re living in denial.”
After ending the call, I see Viktor, Anya, and most of the Russians heading for the exit. Tonight, has been a colossal failure.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sienna
In the bedroom – not my bedroom, the bedroom – I read the report several more times. With each rereading, my heart feels like it’s breaking. Dramatic? Sure, alert the press, I won’t deny it.
Seeing Nico’s name in the context of my mom’s death is like a punch to the gut. Even worse, I still can’t accept it. It’s right there in black and white, but it’s still difficult to accept. I can’t match the person in the report with the man I’ve kissed, made love to, and obsessed over.
The knock at the door makes me flinch.
“Sienna?”
It’s Nico. I stuff the report into the bedside drawer with the recording device.
“Yeah?”
“May I come in?”
“I just want to get some sleep.”
“I’m coming in.”
“Why even ask if you’re going to barge in anyway?”
He opens the door and walks across the room, standing over the bed. I wish he didn’t look so dashing in his tux. He sits on the bed and tries to touch my hand. I snatch it out of the way.
“I’m sorry you had to see me with another woman. For what it’s worth, Anya dropped a bombshell this evening. She hasn’t been interested in me for years. She’s just playing the role she stupidly thought I wanted from her. The ditzy Bratva princess. She doesn’t want me; she wants the alliance, just like her father.”
I almost scream at him that I don’t care. But it’s convenient if he thinks my mood has been about that instead of my world shattering into a million pieces.
“Okay,” I mutter.
“Seriously – nothing happened. Nothing has ever happened. And nothing is going to happen.”
“Thank you for telling me that,” I reply. “I’m tired. I want to get some sleep… alone.”
“Vignette—”
“All that about you owning me, possessing me, whatever, you understand that’s sex talk. I hope you get that. You don’t literally own me. You have to take my wishes into account sometimes.”
“I know,” he replies. “But I mean it—”
“Nothing happened. I heard you the first time. Please, just let me sleep.”
He stands, looking hurt. Despite what I’ve learned, I almost apologize for upsetting him. What a joke that would be. “I’m staying here tonight. Mother has a few spare rooms. If you change your mind and want to see me, text me.”
“Okay. I’ll do that.”
“Piccola pittrice, I don’t want anyone except for you. Ever.”
The word ever bounces around my head, my soul, as he leaves the room. Once he’s gone, I lock the door and strip off my dress, climb into the shower, and let the hot water flow over me, hoping it’ll burn away my indecision and anxiety.
No such luck. Returning to the bed, I grab the recording device. The bulky part is a battery. The wires connect to several microphones, maybe in case one fails. I’m not a spy. I don’t trust myself to wear it and guide Nico into saying something incriminating. I’ll be too nervous.
Maybe I could plant it somewhere in the house. I’ve noticed that Gianna and Nico seem to talk in her kitchen quite often. Gianna is his second-in-command, which means that their conversations probably have something to do with the mob.
I take some slow breaths in a vain attempt to stop the frenetic beating of my heartbeat. I don’t want to incriminate Nico. I don’t want to hurt him, despite the report, the gunshot that tore my mom away from me.
I should ask him what he was thinking when he lied to me. What sort of sick game was he playing? He told me it was the Bratva, but it’s right there in black and white.
Will Adrian and the Bratva be able to get to me with Nico’s protection? Outside the walls of Gianna’s large property, there are several cars filled with mafia men, presumably ready to start shooting if anyone approaches.
But I can’t stay here forever. I can’t commit to my mother’s killer. Sooner or later, I’ll have to leave. On the ride home, Gianna mentioned running to my place tomorrow to grab some of my things. I’m living in borrowed clothes, borrowed toiletries, borrowed everything.