by Andie Brock
‘Then I will be putting plans in place for the future.’
‘And what does that mean?’ A curl of dread unfurled inside her.
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
‘So I was right.’ Blood rushed to her head. ‘You are never going to let us go, are you? You are going to keep us captive for ever, move us around from place to place, keep us locked in some squalid basement so that we never see the light of day—like those horror stories you read about in the papers.’
‘For God’s sake calm down, Leah.’
Jaco closed in on her with a single step, catching her against him and restraining her hysterical rant with two hands placed firmly on her bare shoulders. Leah felt the heat of his touch sear into her skin, branding her flesh, causing her nipples to tighten.
‘I will not calm down.’ She went to twist away but Jaco held her firm, coming closer until the minuscule gap between them disappeared completely.
‘Well, get some control over your vivid imagination, then.’ He moved one arm around her shoulder in a blatant display of masculine dominance. ‘Getting yourself worked up is not going to help anyone. There will be no moving around, and no basements. Circumstances mean that unfortunately it is necessary to keep you here for a short period of time...’
‘Circumstances?’ Fighting to free herself from his arms, Leah threw back her head so that her auburn curls rippled down her back. ‘What circumstances?’
‘But while you are here,’ Jaco continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘you will be offered every convenience to make your stay as pleasant as possible.’
‘Let me assure you, Jaco Valentino, there will be nothing remotely pleasant about my stay.’ Her reply whistled through the air like a bullet.
‘No?’ Jaco let his eyes slowly drift over her face, watching as she blinked to try and hide her reaction to him.
Her muscles twitched beneath her heated skin...her mouth pulled into an unconscious pout. She hated the way he could do this to her. Hated even more the way he revelled in his power.
‘You’re sure about that, are you, Leah?’
‘Yes—yes, I am.’ She stepped away from him, backwards into the room.
‘Well, I guess I will just have to take your word for that.’ His tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek. ‘Anyway...’ He turned an arrogant shoulder. ‘I just came to see if you needed anything. There is plenty of food in the kitchen if you would like to join me for breakfast.’
‘I would rather boil my head in oil.’
‘Suit yourself.’
She watched, breathless with burning impotence, as Jaco moved towards the door, deliberately rolling his shoulders as if to be rid of her, the tanned olive skin stretching over his muscled torso.
Reaching the doorway, he stopped, leaning against the doorjamb to address her again. ‘Oh, by the way...’ He feigned a casualness belied by the intensity of his stare. ‘If you are looking for your phone, I have had to requisition it. Just for the duration of your stay.’
‘You have done what?’ Speechless with anger, Leah could only gape at him. He must have come into her room and stolen it from her. This was unbelievable.
‘I can’t afford for you to give away your whereabouts and I don’t trust you to keep quiet.’
Too right she wouldn’t keep quiet. She had already planned to GPS her location and ring Harper, the police, Interpol—anyone that would listen to her. Now all those options had been snatched away from her.
As she watched Jaco stride away it hit her like a blow to the head how utterly defenceless she was. How totally she was under his command.
* * *
Jaco marched down the corridor, intent on putting as much space between him and Leah McDonald as quickly as possible. He needed to get some air into his lungs, clear his head.
His problems had started the moment he had walked into her bedroom—a big mistake, as it turned out. The sight of Leah nursing the child had broken his stride, made him falter. Something about the way her head had been bent, her auburn curls tumbling over the baby’s face as she rocked him very gently from side to side, had had a visceral effect on him, striking him like a blow to the chest.
They had looked so natural, so perfect, so innocent. The tender scene had captivated him for a split second, before quickly solidifying like cement, weighing him down with bitterness and anger. Because Leah wasn’t innocent. Far from it. She was manipulative and clever. She had used those skills to hide the fact that she was pregnant with his child. To keep him from his son.
Jaco had no idea why she would do something so cruel, so heartless. Clearly he had got her wrong.
From the short time they had spent together he would have described her as many things: funny, intelligent, strong, sexy, unpredictable. But not manipulative or underhanded. And certainly never cruel. It was true that his friend Vieri had warned him she was trouble, but Jaco had laughed it off, preferring to make up his own mind about people. But it seemed Vieri had been right. Ms McDonald was not who she appeared to be.
But she was the mother of his son. And, as such, Jaco intended to use this time to find out everything he could about her. He would be keeping a very close eye on her—both now and in the future.
Breakfast forgotten, Jaco picked up his laptop and headed for the terrace, settling himself under the shade of the sail-shaped awning. He scanned the view only briefly before settling down to work. He wasn’t here to admire the scenery.
Although this island was supposed to be his own personal piece of paradise, so far he had spent no more than a handful of days here. The villa had been finished more than a year ago, but somehow he’d never managed to find the time to enjoy it. Not that that bothered him. It was a sound investment—as was the island itself.
One of several islands he owned off the north coast of Sicily, this was the one he favoured most. Dramatically beautiful, it had fine, dark-coloured sand—a result of centuries of volcanic activity. One day he would take the time to enjoy it, but not yet. Right now he had other things on his mind.
He scrolled down the long stream of new emails, scanning them quickly for information. Everything appeared to be progressing as planned. Proceedings would soon be reaching the most critical stage. Everything he had been working towards for so long was finally about to come to fruition. Finally—finally—his vile adopted family were going to get what was coming to them.
The organisation, the meticulous planning, the months of painstaking work that had gone into this scheme were finally going to pay off. His legal father, his so-called brothers, his uncles—the whole damned lot of them—were going to get caught. No mistakes, no one slipping through the net. It was all or nothing.
Jaco had masterminded the whole plan, and his determination to bring his abominable corrupted family to justice coloured his every waking moment. Luckily he knew their biggest weakness—greed. He also knew that to stand any chance of winning he had to play them at their own game. So, with the backing of international drug enforcement agencies and the Italian police, who had been trying to bring the Garalino family to justice for years, Jaco had set up a daring sting operation.
Using the dark web and bitcoin—the preferred currency of the underworld—he had come up with a deal his family couldn’t refuse: a massive cocaine smuggling operation. Under the cover of exporting olive oil to South America, and importing coffee beans to Europe, the cocaine would find its way into Sicily to be distributed around Europe. It was a massively risky strategy—not least because only a few carefully prepared and positioned sample sacks would actually contain cocaine. Something his family wouldn’t discover until they had fully implicated themselves.
The stakes were so high that if the sting went wrong—if they found out Jaco was behind it, which they undoubtedly would—he had effectively signed his own death warrant. But Jaco had calculated it as a risk worth taking. Francesca was sa
fely in hiding. He was a single man with no dependents, so at least he would be their only target. And he could take care of himself.
But now everything had changed. He had a son. And Jaco knew he had to take immediate steps to protect him.
As far as he was concerned you didn’t cross your family—or if you did you could expect reprisals of the very worst kind. Family on family. With no mercy. And, like an unprotected baby bird in its nest, Jaco Valentino’s infant son would be seen as a prime target.
Behind him he heard Leah walking down the corridor towards the kitchen, the angry slap of her sandals on the marble floor. Even though she was clearly ignoring him, he instinctively closed the lid of his laptop. Sitting back, he spanned one hand across his forehead.
If the Garalinos ever discovered he had a son, Gabriel would be in immediate danger—even without the sting operation. Merely by virtue of being Jaco Valentino’s son he would be of great interest, seen as a possible weakness in Jaco’s armour, a way of paying him back for leaving the firm.
Jaco had had nothing to do with his adopted family since the age of eighteen, when he had finally managed to escape their clutches. His only regret was that he hadn’t been able to take his younger sibling with him—not then.
Leaving Sicily, he had moved to New York, started a new life, and successfully built up a business empire that had rapidly made him a billionaire. A combination of astute intelligence, an unerring nose for a great deal, plus more than his fair share of good looks and easy charm, had got him far.
But beneath the urbane exterior and the effortless manners lay a very different man. Although he had made his home in many different countries his heart had always remained in Sicily, and slowly he had returned—anonymously at first, but then, as his wealth and power grew, with more authority, buying land, property and, most significantly of all, the Capezzana vineyard.
Capezzana had been in the Valentino family for generations. It had been Jaco’s family home until the age of five, when his world had imploded. When both of his parents had died when their car had plunged over a cliff. Jaco and his younger brother, who had been only a toddler at the time, had been taken into care, and finally adopted by the evil Garalino family when Jaco was eleven.
Although Capezzana had been left to Jaco in his parents’ will, he’d had no claim on it until he was eighteen, so it had been run by a co-operative trust for several years—as the Garalinos had known it would be. This had been their chance to infiltrate the business and put into practice the nefarious schemes that Jaco’s parents had so steadfastly refused to comply with.
Their bravery had eventually led to the ‘unfortunate accident’ that had seen their car plunge over a cliff.
The co-operative had been no match for the notorious Garalino family, and soon the prized Capezzana wines had been adulterated by harmful chemicals, and inferior wines had been relabelled and sold to investors at vastly inflated prices. The Garalino family had got rich quick and their greed had known no bounds.
Luigi Garalino had decided that to have total control over the vineyard he would need to do something about the Valentino boys before the elder one came of age. So he’d come up with a master stroke: he would adopt the two of them. As their legitimate parent he would be able to oversee Capezzana legally for the next few years—plenty of time to induct them into the ways of the Garalino family. And a couple of healthy young boys were always useful in his line of business. The elder one in particular, a strong lad of eleven, had looked to him as if he might be a useful asset.
Wine production at Capezzana had gone into overdrive, with the Garalinos churning out hundreds of gallons of adulterated wine—far more than the land could ever produce. But their greed, as ever, had been their downfall. The government had got suspicious and eventually requisitioned the estate. But with friends in high places the Garalino family had never been prosecuted, and Capezzana had been left to fall into ruin.
That was until Jaco had got involved. After lengthy negotiations he had finally managed to buy the estate back from the government and his inheritance had finally been his. It had taken years of hard graft, but now it was prospering again, its reputation restored. And of all the businesses in his packed portfolio Capezzana was far and away the one of which he was most proud.
Jaco knew full well that the Garalino family would be watching him, tracking his movements. But he had never openly crossed them, never even hinted to anyone of the depths of their depravity—not even his closest friends—and so far they had left him alone, kept their distance, bided their time.
What they didn’t know was that they were about to walk into his trap.
These were extremely dangerous times. Jaco had had no alternative but to scoop up his son and bring him here. It was imperative that no one knew of his whereabouts—of his existence at all. Which meant that Leah had had to be seized too. Gabriel could hardly be separated from his mother at this age.
Like it or not—and Jaco most certainly did not—he was stuck with Leah McDonald until the Garalino family were safely behind bars.
He could hear her now, moving about in the kitchen, clattering crockery. And despite his decision to ignore her, to get on with the pile of legitimate work that needed his attention, he found he couldn’t concentrate. Rising to his feet, he headed for the kitchen, somehow drawn towards this woman against his will.
She didn’t hear him approaching—she was too busy studying the coffee machine, trying to figure out how it worked. Wearing a simple sunshine-yellow cotton dress, she had tied her hair up in a high ponytail so that it swung back and forth as she bent her head this way and that, pressing buttons and pulling levers. She appeared much younger than her twenty-seven years, with her jaunty hair and long, lightly tanned legs, and for a moment Jaco felt a stab of guilt for bringing her here. For unwittingly dragging her into the messy, complicated drama that was his life. For having altered the course of her life so completely. Maybe she had the right to dislike him as much as she obviously did.
‘Here—let me.’ Moving towards her, he saw her start, then defiantly tip up her chin at his offer of help.
‘I can do it myself, thank you.’
‘Sorry—my mistake.’ He stood deliberately close to her, perversely enjoying the way his nearness was unsettling her. ‘I take mine black, two sugars.’
Leah scowled at him, then scowled at the machine, before thrusting the bag of coffee beans into his hand. ‘Fine, you do it.’
Jaco took charge, and soon the room was filled with the smell of freshly ground coffee and the gurgling sounds of the dark liquid brewing.
Handing Leah a cup, Jaco watched as she sat herself down at the sleek glass dining table. ‘Help yourself to breakfast. There’s yoghurt, honey, muesli, loads of fresh fruit.’
‘I’ll stick with coffee, thank you.’ Leah glared at him over the rim of her cup. ‘Funnily enough, I don’t have much appetite.’
‘Just as you like.’
Jaco went to the fridge and took out a pot of yoghurt and spooned some into a bowl, then selected a peach from the fruit bowl and sat down. He could feel Leah’s eyes on him as he started to slice the peach, but she looked away as he put his thumb in his mouth to suck off the juice.
‘But it must be important that you keep up your strength—for the baby, I mean. Where is he, by the way?’
‘He is asleep in the bedroom.’ Leah’s chest rose with violent indignation. She was immediately on the attack. ‘And don’t you dare start telling me what I need to do when it comes to my son.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Jaco held up his hands in surrender. He took a mouthful of yoghurt, but in truth he had no more appetite for breakfast than she did.
‘And he has a name, you know.’ Leah hadn’t finished with him yet.
‘Ah, yes, Gabriel.’ Jaco sounded the name slowly, letting his tongue rest behind his top teeth on the last syllable. ‘The name I had n
o say in choosing.’
He thought he saw a flicker of guilt cross Leah’s face, but she remained silent.
‘But I have to say you have made a good choice.’ As her guilt turned to surprise Jaco felt a sense of satisfaction at the way he had wrong-footed her. ‘Gabriel is actually my father’s middle name. Or maybe you knew that?’
‘How on earth would I know that?’ She recovered herself with the scornful reply.
‘A fortuitous coincidence, then.’ Jaco cut another slice of peach and offered it to Leah on the knife. She shook her head as if he were offering her poison. ‘Giacomo Gabriel Valentino. I was named Giacomo after him, but my name got shortened from a very early age. Still...’ He ate the slice of peach himself, then set down the knife. ‘It will be good to have another Gabriel Valentino in the family.’
Leah shot him a glance, opening her mouth to protest, then closing it again, sensing that this was a battle not worth fighting. And she was right. Jaco was very possessive about names. Forced to take the Garalino name when he’d been adopted, he had changed it back to Valentino as soon as he had come of age. Valentino was his true name—the name of his parents. His son would be a Valentino, and in turn his son too.
At the time the Garalinos had tried to stop him, but by clever manipulation Jaco had made sure that he got his way, slowly easing himself out of their clutches, using logic rather than anger, cunning instead of violence. Trying to appease them had half killed him, but it had been important to draw as little attention to himself as possible. They were still watching him, of course—Jaco was under no illusions about that. But not for much longer. Soon vengeance would be his and his life could start again.
A life that now involved a child—his son.
Jaco roughly ran a hand around the back of his neck. He still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he was a father. Somehow he didn’t know how to process it. He still hadn’t held his son in his arms. Anger rose inside him again that Leah could have kept something so momentous from him. And, worse still, could sit there now, looking at him with disgust, as if he was the one at fault. He had absolutely no idea what was going on in her head.