“How are things? How are Simona and your mom?”
“They’re doing all right. Simona misses you.”
“And Uncle Adam?”
His face grows darker. “He’s drinking.”
“He was always drinking.”
“No, not like that. It’s bad now. I don’t know what’s going on in his head. I hope it’s that he feels like an asshole for what’s happening to you.”
“He shouldn’t. He couldn’t have stopped Damian.”
“What happened to your hands?”
“Oh. I fell.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You fell? Or did he hurt you?”
“He?” I’m confused for a moment but then I realize he means Damian. “No, Damian doesn’t hurt me.”
From the look on his face, I’m not sure he believes me.
“I mean it. I fell into broken glass. He picked it out, actually. And bandaged me up.”
“If he raises a hand to you—”
“He won’t. I promise. He’s not like that.” It’s strange, saying this to Liam, but it’s true. When it comes to me, at least.
“Those goons with you?” Liam asks, sipping from his cup as he gestures with his eyes at the two men standing across the street.
“I think only that goon is with me,” I say, nodding my head toward Cash although the men across the street seem goonish enough to work for Damian.
“So, I learned some interesting things you might want to know about.”
“Yeah?”
Liam reaches into his backpack and extracts his laptop but doesn’t open it yet. He just sets it on his lap.
“Did you know Annabel was paralyzed from the waist down?”
“No. I had no idea.”
“I found some hospital records,” he starts, opening his laptop and turning it toward me as he looks behind us. Liam has a talent for finding things online most people don’t have access to. I guess he’s an amateur hacker. I don’t know everything he’s done, he’s pretty secretive about it, but I do know he’s been able to hack into his high school’s system to change a grade or two. I have a feeling that’s the most innocent thing on his resume.
“How?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll give you the gist of it. She was just a normal kid until she was about six. Homeschooled and no friends and shit, but otherwise as normal as you can be growing up in that family. But she was hospitalized for some time after a bad fall.”
“A fall?” My mind immediately moves to the broken railing in the solarium.
“She broke her back.”
I scroll through the records, look at photos, pick up bits and pieces of text although most of it is written in lingo I don’t understand since I’m not a doctor.
“Do you know where the fall took place?”
He takes the laptop back, and I follow his finger strokes as he toggles between screens.
“Solarium.”
He turns it back to me, and I swallow. It’s the solarium where I’d been just yesterday, where I’d felt like I was being watched. Where I’d seen that doll.
I shudder.
“Police report,” Liam adds on. “I guess one of the maids had called it in since the parents weren’t around, and when the ambulance came, so did the cops.”
It looks very different to the overgrown broken glass house I was in yesterday. Well maintained. I can almost imagine how it must have smelled with all the roses blooming up along the staircase.
“She was playing in the solarium with Damian at the time of the accident.”
“What?”
“He was a couple of years older than her. I guess it’s nice he played with her.”
“Was anyone else with them?” I ask, remembering what I overheard in the study this morning. The comment Lucas made about accidents happening around Damian. The mention of Annabel.
“Not according to the report. They were the only two home along with the maid. Elise or someone.”
“Elise is still there.” I look at the photo of Elise as a younger woman. I wonder if she was a bitch back then too. She looks like one.
“That’s where she fell from?” I point to the place.
“Looks like the railing was loose.”
“It’s still loose. Or it was,” I tell him as I close the lid of the laptop. “Actually, the solarium is gone now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone burned it down. Arson.”
“What?”
“That’s why we’re here. That place is like a fortress, but someone got in and set fire to the solarium. I have no idea why they’d choose that building instead of the house. Damian said it was to send a message.”
“Who sent a message?”
“A man named Clementi. He had some work with Dad too, according to Damian.”
“Clementi.” He jots the name down on the palm of his hand. “Someone got on the grounds of the Di Santo house?”
I nod.
“It has to be an inside job. Found this aerial image, too.” He flips to another photo, and I see a vague image of the house and the grounds taken from a drone maybe. It’s not quite clear, but I can see how secure it is with the mountain and forest, the tall stone fencing where there isn’t a natural barrier and, of course, the guard tower.
“Damian thought Lucas might be involved,” I say with a lowered voice after I glance at Cash to make sure he’s not listening. The café is loud, though, and he’s far enough away.
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t like Lucas, but I mean, they’re brothers. Twins. Would he really do that to his own family?”
“Well, I have one more thing you should see.” He takes the laptop back and punches a bunch of keys before turning it back toward me.
I read what’s on the screen. “What’s this?” I ask, recognizing the address of my old house on Staten Island.
“The house was sold almost immediately after your father’s death.”
“I know.”
It was weird, considering the alleged suicide. The real estate agent said it would be a hard sell, but it wasn’t. After hearing that it had sold, I didn’t give it much thought. I didn’t want to. There were too many painful memories that I was okay to leave alone.
“Don’t you want to know who bought it?”
“This corporation?” I point at the name on the screen. “I don’t know why a corporation—”
“Shell company. If you peel back the layers, guess who technically owns your old house.”
“Who?”
“Guess.”
“Just tell me, Liam.”
“Your husband.”
19
Cristina
“He doesn’t act like a man who just lost twenty million dollars,” Damian says to Tobias as he walks into the penthouse.
Sitting up, I rub my face and look over at him. He looks fierce, angry. And like he’s had a long day. The clock on the wall tells me it’s almost midnight.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” he tells Tobias who nods and leaves again. When he reaches the couch, he takes the remote and switches off the TV. “Why didn’t you go to bed?”
“I just dozed off. I need to talk to you.”
“It’s not a good time.” He checks his phone after it dings with a message, running a hand through his hair as he reads it, his attention wholly absorbed by it.
“It’s not a good time for me to be cooped up in here on my own most of the day either.”
He texts his response then gives me a sideways glance as he takes off his coat, tosses it over the back of the couch and heads toward his study “It’s been a long day. Go to bed. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Why did you bring me if I was just going to be in your way?”
“You’re not in my way.”
“Well, all you’ve done since we got here is send me away.”
He stops, turns to me. “What? Do you suddenly miss me? You want to spend time with me? That’s not the impr
ession you’ve given me so far, sweetheart. Go to bed.”
“I have questions.”
“Christ. Look, it’s been a really long day and it’s not over yet. Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m just up here to grab some things and go.”
“Go where?”
“Business.”
Vague as ever. Who does business at this time of night? I follow him into the study.
“Who doesn’t act like a man who lost twenty million dollars?” I ask, not yet ready to ask the real question.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Why do you keep telling me not to worry about things but expect me to understand that I need to be accompanied by your soldier?”
“This is business, Cristina. You won’t be involved in that. All you need to know is that I’ll keep you safe.” He opens a couple of drawers and fishes through until he finds what he needs. He tucks the papers into his jacket pocket and looks at me with both eyebrows raised.
“Why were you and your brother fighting today?” I ask.
“Brothers fight. This is what couldn’t wait?”
“I heard my name.”
“Were you snooping? Listening at the door? When will you learn your lesson?”
“I was getting a glass of water and you two were loud.”
He surveys me. “We were born holding hands. Did I ever tell you that?”
“You rarely tell me anything.”
“I tell you what you need to know. And besides, this situation, you and me, it’s gone a little differently than I expected.” He checks his watch. “I have to go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Differently how?”
He shifts his attention to his phone when another message comes through. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“See? This is an example of how you don’t tell me anything.”
“Cristina.” The way he says my name is with a groan of irritation.
“I mean it. You—”
“How is your cousin?” he asks with a smirk.
I guess he’s making a point. I’m surprised he knows, although I shouldn’t be. I’m sure Cash reports everything back to him. “Fine.”
“Why didn’t you mention you’d wanted to see him?”
“I ran into him. That’s all.”
He touches a knuckle under my chin and tilts my face up. “You know how I can tell when you’re lying?”
I turn my face away.
“That’s it exactly. You can’t hold my gaze. Now are you done? I need to go.”
“Where?”
“This again?”
He attempts to walk past me, but I grab hold of his arm. Not that I can stop him if he wants to go but he does stop, looks at my hand then at me.
His phone dings with yet another message but he ignores it this time, turning his full attention to me and I’m suddenly not sure I want it. He walks me backward to the desk, placing his hands on it on either side of me when the backs of my legs hit it.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You need some attention? I’ll tell you what. I can spare a few minutes.” His gaze drops to my lips and I realize I’m licking them. “Bend over the desk.”
“What?”
“Bend over, lift your skirt and I’ll take care of you before I go.”
“That’s not…You’re a jerk, you know that?” I try to slip past him, but he captures my arm to stop me, ignoring another message notification.
“You wanted me. You have me.”
“Not like this.”
“This is what you get. You had a question.”
“You’re in no mood to answer it.” I squirm but there’s no getting away from him.
“No, I’m not, because like I said it’s been a really long fucking day. So why don’t you bend over the desk and at least make yourself useful.” He spins me around, swipes his arm across his desk to clear it, sending all the papers on top to the floor before pushing me down over it.
“Is this why you brought me? To make myself useful when you have long fucking days?” I say, looking back at him as he pushes the skirt of my dress up to my waist and my panties down over my hips.
I attempt to push the skirt back down.
“It’s one of the reasons.”
I hear another message notification and again, he ignores it. He captures my wrists, holding both in one hand at my lower back and lifting my skirt again.
He undoes his belt, his pants and I shouldn’t be fucking turned on, not like this, but I am.
“Besides,” he starts, lining up his cock at my entrance and keeping eye contact. “I like having you around.”
He slides his length into me and as much as I don’t want to want this, I’m wet.
“Fuck,” he groans, drawing the word out.
“This isn’t—” I start to protest but he pulls back and thrusts in, forcing the air from my lungs.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you come even though I shouldn’t.”
“How generous…” he slips a hand between my legs and I lose my train of thought, gasping with the contact.
“Don’t be a smartass. You want this as much as I do.”
I should to tell him to piss off, make him answer my questions but when he touches me like this I can’t think straight.
He thrusts again, fingers playing with me, fucking me harder than he has before. I bite my lip so as not to cry out as the sounds of our fucking, wet and lewd, fill the room.
“After I fuck this tight little cunt you’re going to get on your knees and clean my dick. What do you think about that, sweetheart?”
“I hate you.”
He leans over me and I feel sweat drip from his forehead onto my temple. He kisses my cheek, licks the shell of my ear. “It’s a good thing I don’t hate you, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer. I guess I’m surprised by it.
“Come, Cristina.” He’s breathing hard, fucking me harder, beads of sweat on his forehead as he straightens again. “Let me feel you come on my dick.”
I don’t want to come. I don’t want to want him or be turned on by him but god when he moves like this inside me and works his fingers over my clit, when I see his eyes darken, see the want inside them, I can’t help it.
I come.
And when I do, I feel him thicken inside me and he thrusts twice more then stills, a moan coming from deep inside his chest, eyes closed, ecstasy on his face as his cock throbs and he fills me up.
We’re both panting when he opens his eyes finally and meets mine.
“You are so bad for me,” he mutters, pulling out of me, cum sliding onto my inner thighs as he does. He looks down at my ass, keeping me bent over for a minute before turning me to face him. He cups my head with one hand, his other hand on my arm, eyes dark and intent. “So fucking bad.”
Pulling me toward him, he kisses me hard before roughly breaking away to lower me to my knees.
“What are you doing?”
“You mean what are you doing. You’re going to clean my dick, sweetheart.”
“What?”
He makes a fist of my hair and painfully forces me to look up at him. “Don’t bite.”
20
Cristina
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more humiliated.
Or more aroused.
I hate myself for that last part.
After using my mouth to clean his dick, he gave me a long look, put himself back in his pants, and turned and walked out of the door and out of the penthouse.
Asshole.
And the worst part? I came. I came on his command and we both know it.
I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. Not sure who I am when it comes to him.
It’s late morning and I’m just wrapping up my shower. He’s gone again. I’m not even sure he slept last night. If he did, it wasn’t in the same bed as me, and as much as I don’t want to care, that bothers me.
I’d waited up to talk to him. To ask him why he owns my house. Because it makes no sense to me. I mean, is he
even using it? Is it collecting dust? Isn’t it macabre to want to own the house where you hanged a man?
It’s just weird and creepy.
Lucas’s words repeat for the hundredth time in my ears. When you’re ready to hear some truth, you call me, and I’ll tell it to you.
Back in the bedroom, I pick up my phone from the nightstand to read the number Lucas programmed into my phone. Can I trust him to tell me the truth? Or will he twist everything? Tell me lies and half-truths that will only confuse me more than I already am? But I don’t have many options. Last night showed me exactly where I stand.
And I need to get some answers.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I push the call button.
Lucas answers on the third ring. “Cristina.”
Something cold snakes along my spine at the way he says my name, like he’s been expecting me to call. Like he’s known all along I would. It makes me want to run and hide. But I steel my spine.
I’ve been hiding for too long.
“Did you mean what you said?” I ask, my voice coming out more forceful than I intend.
He chuckles.
“Did you? Are you going to tell me the truth?”
“Are you ready to hear it? If you’re calling me, it means my brother isn’t being forthcoming.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“That’s good. You shouldn’t trust me or anyone else.”
“What the fuck, Lucas?”
“Where are you?”
“At the penthouse.”
“Can you get to the café you went to yesterday?”
“How did you know about that?’
“Can you?”
“I think so.”
“I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”
“Wait,” I say before he hangs up.
“Yes?”
“Can you just tell me on the phone?”
“Are you afraid of my brother finding out you saw me? Or is it that you’re afraid of me?”
“I’m not afraid of either of you,” I lie.
He snorts.
“If you’re just going to play games with me too, then forget it.”
“Café. Twenty minutes. If you’re there, I’ll know you’re serious.” With that, he disconnects.
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