by E. M. Gayle
With that, Anthony brushed past me and disappeared from the gym along with his two foot soldiers while leaving me stunned and angry beyond words. The gall of that bastard. To say I needed to punch something was a massive understatement. I wanted to go after that fucker and pulverize him.
"What the hell was that all about? Those guys looked like bad news. Did you get yourself in some kind of trouble while you were away?"
I took a deep breath and exhaled before I answered. I had certainly stepped into something. Although it wasn't me who was going to be learning any lesson. However, I had to get nosy Bennie out of this and fast. It was one thing to take risks with my life, and another to risk others.
"I may end up regretting going to find my father. But whatever he thinks is going to happen between us, he's wrong. I'm washing my hands of him as of now." That probably wasn't technically true, but I sure as fuck wouldn't be throwing my fight no matter what bullshit they pulled. It was time I reminded "my father" exactly who was in charge of my life.
"I knew you going off halfcocked around the world was a bullshit idea. When are you ever going to start listening to me?"
I shook my head. "I listen all the time. When I agree with what you say."
"Excuse me, Mr. Cabrini. Sorry to interrupt, but I need a word with you."
I turned around to find yet another outsider standing in my gym. "Jesus, what is this Grand Central today? Whoever the hell you are I don't have time. I'm in the middle of something. What the hell, Bennie? We need to up the security around here."
The new face smirked and reached into his blazer pocket to pull out his wallet or maybe a gun I presumed. That was kind of how this day was going so far. He flipped it open and my day went from bad to worse when I saw his badge.
Shit.
What the hell was going on?
"No security necessary. I just have a few questions for you if you don't mind."
My brow furrowed in confusion. "About what? I'm about to step into the ring and I need to get my head into it before I do."
"I won't take long. Definitely don't want to mess with your upcoming fight. I'm looking forward to it, in fact." He stepped forward and held out his hand. "Rockford Reed by the way. Is there somewhere private we can talk?"
A stabbing pain struck behind my right eye as I took in this new complication. I had no idea what the hell had brought the FBI to my doorstep, but I could guarantee I wasn't going to like it.
Fuck.
Chapter Seventeen
ZIA
The morning after spending the night with Vincent, I'd awoken to an empty bed and a note telling me that he'd had to leave before dawn for the gym and that his house and driver were at my disposal.
I don't know what I'd expected from him after falling asleep on him like I had. But I couldn't help feeling both disappointed and kind of grateful that I could avoid any awkward morning after moments.
Spending the night at his house curled up at his side felt far too intimate in the light of day. Something I'd drag out and dwell on when I had more time.
Unfortunately, as much as I'd wanted to explore this incredible house I had too much on my plate to linger. I returned to the hotel to find both my assistant Julie and Nina waiting for me. Both women gave me that knowing look as I walked into my suite with the same clothes I'd worn the day before.
"Don't say a word." I rushed past both of them and disappeared into my closet to find something more appropriate before the camera crew arrived. I didn't need to advertise my walk of shame to everyone.
"They're going to be here any second," Julie offered from the doorway. She then proceeded to run down my schedule for the day that was going to keep me running like a madwoman until well into the night.
"What's Nina doing here this morning? I could have used a heads up on that."
"I can hear you, you know." She called from just outside the door. "Your director asked me to be here this morning so he can go over the show notes with all of us. Since filming is going to take place all over the hotel, I've been asked to be here each morning for the meeting. That way I can help coordinate whatever is needed in the way of access, I guess without making too much of an impact on our guests."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude." I poked my head out of the closet to face her. "I might be a little bit of a control freak when it comes to my work. I like to plan in advance for everything."
I heard Julie choke from inside of the closet, which I promptly ignored. She'd been around long enough to be used to me and my preferences by now. And it wasn't like her not to give me a heads up.
"No worries. I get it—" Before she could finish, the doorbell to the suite rang and I groaned knowing I was out of time.
I turned back to Julie. "Can you stall long enough for me to fix my face and hair?"
"No need. Zack said we were going to start off with a full hair and make-up crew this morning as well as wardrobe. They want to get most of the footage for the promotional shots first so they have something right away to tease the network with."
I nodded as she headed for the door to let everyone in. I still couldn't believe the network was stalling. They'd approved the budget for the filming, but we seemed farther than ever from an actual deal on our second season.
"So things are going okay with Vincent now?" Nina had slipped into the doorway as I returned the pantsuit I'd been about to don back into its precise place in the closet.
I winced at her question. For a moment I'd forgotten just how much I'd overshared with my boss's wife. "I'm not sure okay is the right word, but we're making the proximity work."
"Is that what you call sleeping together? Making it work?" She laughed and some of the knots loosened in my stomach. Maybe my guard didn't have to stand so tall after all. Nina had done nothing but be kind to me since I arrived.
"Who's sleeping together? Is this about the boxer? This is going to be a great addition to the show, you know." Zack appeared in the doorway behind Nina and the urge to throw up climbed up my throat.
"No!" Both Nina and I cried in unison.
"That conversation had nothing at all to do with Mr. Cabrini," I lied. "Nina and I were discussing her husband." I deliberately avoided looking at her eyes as I threw her and her relationship under the bus.
After a few tense beats, Nina nodded her head. "Yeah, boring marriage stuff. Nothing interesting at all." She gave me a hard, knowing look that I knew meant I'd pay for that later.
Zack sniffed. "I doubt very seriously that your husband has a boring bone in his body. I've met him, remember? That man is intense. Although I am disappointed in Romeo. He doesn't appear to be living up to his reputation if he's not sleeping with you, Zia. Yet."
I inwardly groaned at the sound of Vincent's Casanova-like middle name. It was time to change the subject. "Can we get down to business? I've got a long list of to-dos for the day and the sooner I get started the better."
"You may not be sleeping with the boxer yet, but maybe you should. You certainly seem to have woken on the wrong side of the bed again."
I was about to throttle this man. This weird conversation had taken a supremely uncomfortable turn. He might be a brilliant reality television director, but he didn't understand boundaries at all.
"Do you have some information for me this morning?" Nina interrupted. She'd obviously read the situation and gotten the message that I was losing patience with his line of discussion. Smart woman. The amount I owed her was starting to stack up.
"I do and Julie probably has it all laid out for us in the dining room by now. While most of the show happens organically and then in the editing room, there are some basics we need to get down. We'll need access to certain parts of the hotel and casino today that we won't use on a day to day basis."
I tuned out Zack as he discussed shooting locations and let my mind wander back to Vincent. There was still so much I didn't know about him and as much as I hated to admit it, I was eager to learn. I picked up my iPad and typed his full name int
o the google search bar.
Before we met again, I wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into. I cringed at the initial images that came up. Apparently Vincent's last fight had been particularly bloody and it seemed to be the trending topic on the internet this week. As I scrolled through more images, the violence of his job became more and more apparent.
What was it about someone like him that made him this prone to violence?
"Earth to Zia." Zack stood in front of me snapping his fingers.
"What?" I asked, dragging my gaze from the disturbing images of Vincent and his poor opponents.
"Nina and I are going to walk our shooting locations in the hotel so you have about an hour or so with the vanity crew. Make sure they do something about those dark circles under your eyes and for God's sake make sure you start getting some sleep. Make up and editing can only fix so much. The world is all in 4K ultra high definition now. Every imperfection shows."
Before I could fling a pithy comeback, he and Nina were already walking out the door. And I was never more relieved to be rid of him than then. Sometimes I questioned my sanity when it came to this show. I loved cooking and the idea that more people would get to enjoy my love for food from watching our show was seriously the best.
But the personal life intrusion and the rigid Hollywood standards put on women by men like Zack had already begun to put a damper on what should have been an exciting day.
Well, that and the turmoil over Vincent I couldn't shake. I glanced back down at the internet search results and started to read. Before I saw him again I was going to make sure there were no surprises. I had a feeling there was a lot more to him than what he presented.
And I'd officially hit my limit of people in my life who couldn't be trusted.
Chapter Eighteen
VINCENT
I was going to kill him. If there was even a hint of truth to the lawman's insinuations, my manager was dead meat. Fired wouldn't cut it.
I slammed into my suite at The Sinclair. "Brian! Where the fuck are you?"
Anger pulsed through my veins as I stalked from room to room, throwing open doors and heedless to the fact that I was making the walls shake as each door crashed into a wall.
Pictures fell from the walls and glass shattered in every single room. I seethed with rage and with Brian suddenly missing I had nowhere else to direct it.
Either Bennie or I had been trying to reach him all day while trying to continue with training. It had not gone well.
The idea that my perfect fighting record had been orchestrated by a fucking two bit criminal and his shitty organization was threatening to eat me alive. I'd been so outraged when I finally got into the training ring today, I'd nearly gone insane.
If Bennie hadn't been able to get me pulled off the poor bastard willing to spar with me, I might have done something I couldn't take back. Blood had coated my hands anyway and I was going to owe my sparring partner more than a simple apology.
I grabbed the giant vase in the middle of the dining room table and flung it at the far wall. I then watched the damn thing shatter and the hundreds of glass shards litter the suite floor. It wasn't enough. I strode to the side table and grabbed that vase of flowers too and made it join the first. I was on a roll now as I prowled through the suite grabbing every fucking container of fresh flowers and adding it to the last until the walls dripping with water and crumbled flowers on the floor created the ultimate macabre scene.
This was more like it.
"Vincent? What the hell is going on? I can hear you through the walls and it sounds like the entire hotel is crashing down."
I jerked at the sound of her alarmed voice and turned to find Zia standing in the doorway of my suite with her hands hitched at her hips.
"You shouldn't be here." My voice came out on a low growl that I hoped would warn her off. This was not the time for her to be this close to me.
"From the looks of it no one should be here." She stepped forward and glass crunched underneath her shoes. She lifted her leg and gingerly stepped in a different direction until she'd made her way to my side.
"You're bleeding," she said, lifting my hand to inspect my knuckles.
"It's nothing." I jerked away from her.
"Clearly not or your suite wouldn't be trashed."
I smirked at her. That wasn't what I'd meant and she knew it. "Today has not been the best day."
She laughed. "Ya think? So what happened?"
The absolute last thing I wanted to do was stand here and answer questions, so I remained silent. I did however, take notice of her appearance. She was wearing a long, slim dress that fell nearly to her ankles and hugged every single curve on its way down. It was an unusual cross between formal and too sexy. The shoes I'd noticed before were the same color as her tanned skin with straps that weaved back and forth across her feet. I didn't remember noticing the pale pink polish on her toes the night before, but in my defense my mind had been on other more interesting pink parts.
The shock of that thought made my mouth water as the memory of her taste on my tongue hit me like a punch to the gut. I had to bite my lip to keep from licking my lips like the hungry wolf I felt like.
Her hair fell in long, soft waves around her shoulders and in front of her breasts. The curve of which made my hands itch to strip her of these clothes. I suddenly wanted to see the tips of her nipples framed by her silky tresses moments before I clamped my lips around them.
"Why are you growling?"
I jerked my head up and caught her gaze. "I didn't realize I was."
"So are you going to tell me what happened?" She walked away from me and disappeared into the tiny half bath not far from the front door and emerged a few moments later with a wet towel in her hand. "Let me see." She held out her hand and I reluctantly placed my hand in hers.
Another shot of lust gut punched me again as she gingerly wiped the blood from my fingers.
"You must have cut your hand on a piece of glass."
I shrugged. It was the least of my worries and the injuries I'd inflicted with my anger today.
"You really should go. I'm not fit for company. You definitely wouldn't like the things going on in my head right now."
She ignored me and continued to dab at the tiny wound on my finger. "Maybe you should talk about it. If not with me then with someone else."
What the hell was she talking about? "Are you implying that I have bigger issues and that I need some sort of therapist?"
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and I had to admit that some of the rage coursing through me lessened.
"I googled you today." The words came out on a whisper that I heard with the deafening explosion of a bomb detonating.
Oh boy. Talk about a minefield.
"My life is hardly a secret. Every move I ever make is splashed across thousands of social media pages or internet sites within hours and sometimes minutes. Even if I wanted to hide something it would be next to impossible." Not exactly the truth, but close enough.
So far no one had figured out who my father was or even that I had visited the Rossi family while there. I had a team of highly trained security professionals who knew what the fuck they were doing.
"Is it true that you were investigated in the death of your stepfather?"
Jesus. She'd really done her research and gone straight for the jugular. No one had mentioned that one in a very long time.
"Yes," I answered as briefly and succinctly as possible. She didn't need to know the truth. It was a dark and ugly period of my life. I'd moved on. Mostly. "In my profession, I have to be more careful than most. If I touch anyone outside the ring it gets blown out of proportion and people make incorrect assumptions."
"And that story was out of proportion?"
Fuck. She was far more insistent with her questioning than I'd expected. "The investigation was very real. I had people combing through my fucking garbage trying to find a shred of evidence that I had something to do with his death. They fo
und nothing." And they never would.
"That's about the biggest non-answer answer I've ever heard."
I yanked my hand from hers and crossed to the other side of the room, putting some much needed space between the two of us.
"What do you want me to say? Do you want to hear the gory details of what my stepfather did to me when I was too young to defend myself? Or how about the things he did to my mother that traumatized her so bad she had to get the fuck out and leave me behind? Trust me, you don't want those images burned into your brain."
I paced to the window and looked out at the flash and glitz or flat out depravity of the strip down below. This city had so many secrets and more dirty laundry than any city had a right to. But it was my city and I couldn't leave it. No matter how hard she pushed me to go.
"Maybe you should. It sounds like someone needs to know the truth."
I turned and looked at her, shocked that she still wanted to push me. "You ask for too much."
"So do you," she whispered.
"I've never asked you for more than you wanted to give. Just because you won't admit it to yourself doesn't mean it's not true."
"Why are you turning this situation around and making it about me? That's not what this is about. I'm not the one I caught trashing his hotel suite for no apparent reason."
"There are so many reasons it's ridiculous. Apparently my trip to Italy has set off a series of chain reactions that are going to ruin everything I've built in my life. You weren't the only one who was targeted."
Zia staggered backwards, her hand snapping up to cover her mouth. "The pictures," she gasped. "What happened?"
"No. It has nothing to do with that. That I could handle." I could see the full panic mode settling in over her and I was going to have to distract her with some of my truth. "The FBI paid me a visit at the gym today."